Well, after many conversations about which one of our six children would present us with the next heart to love, the answer arrived on Sunday. I now count a grand-dog as kin.
We’ve always been dog people. My children grew up with a pound Golden Retriever who detested other dogs but loved us (and bread) with a priceless passion. Bivio was the nanny and keeper of comings and goings and snugglings and rompings. Zoe, our current dog, is a Black Lab (mostly). She is gray of muzzle, lumpy and creaky and walking grace.
And now, there is Chela. She lives in Denver with my daughter and her partner. It seems she was wandering the parking lot at Chase’s work. My daughter Leah has always wanted to be the kind of person that her aunt Anne is: the kind that dogs in all of their core wisdom come to when they need a good home. Chela has found home with Leah and Chase and in a week, I get to meet her.
Love is an expansive thing. There are nooks and crannies in our hearts that only the liquid and loving eyes of dogs can fill. So when the opportunity to love wanders in, the brave of heart offer welcome, knowing that from this time onward, family time will be noted by the era of the dog of the day.
For Leah and Chase, this is the time of Chela.