Sixty-three years ago today this little dog came to live at our house.
Okay, it wasn't really 63 years ago (to anyone but her). It was actually nine years ago today, that Liberty Bell "Libby" Smith arrived at our house via a pet rescue organization.
"No shedding, less than 20 pounds, free and not a puppy." Those were the criteria for acquiring a dog that my husband set out once we agreed that we would add a canine companion to our family. Surprisingly, it only took a few days before our dream dog was found. And she was free (that is until I ran into the back of a Mercedes as I drove home from the pet rescue). She has been a dream dog, more like a cat than a dog really and worth every insurance- deductible penny.
I remember thinking at the time how competitive it was to adopt a rescue animal -- 8-page forms and multiple assurances that "the well-being of the dog will be your family's highest priority." Perhaps the conditions for getting married, having children and lots of other things, should be as exacting?
When the pet rescue folks called during that year's broadcast of the Academy Awards (remember A Beautiful Mind?) to say we'd been selected as her new owners, we were elated - like we'd won our own little award that evening.
Libby was housebroken from the minute we brought her home and incredibly low-maintenance. Our veterinarian estimated her age to be older than the 2 years the pet rescue folks said, so we have no idea of Libby's real age. Suffice it to say, even in those first couple of years, our daughter would often say, "We didn't get a dog, we got a grandma" because Libby was so quiet and easygoing.
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It is sad for me to think that sweet Libby is in the twilight of her life. She has brought us lots of joy, put up with a lot over the years (see above) and has been almost no trouble at all. I have been known to say, "We feel like we won the dog lottery" when referring to Libby. On second thought, perhaps we should have named her "Lucky."
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