I recently got an email asking if we had any pets (besides the one-eared cat). I realized that I've never introduced you properly to my first child – Jasper. My loyal, gentle, sweet, affectionate, patient Jasper.
Jasper is the fourth dog I've referred to as "my dog" in this lifetime. He the second dog to join Pete and I as a young family, and the only surviving canine in our clan. And Jasper is my first true-love pup since Mutzie, our childhood mutt. Jasper is, as my mom put it, my "forever dog."
Jasper has been with us since I met him at the humane society when he was a puppy twelve years ago. I had no intention of getting a dog. Just a half-hour to burn before an appointment. But really, I think he called me there.
He was lying on his side in a big raucous pen of puppies, quietly gnawing on a tennis ball as his brothers and sisters barked, romped, jumped, stepped on his head, played, rolled, and made rowdy mischief all around him.
"That is my dog." I said out loud. When I lifted him out of the pen he let out a great sigh and rested his puppy head on my shoulder.
He was my dog, and I was his person.