I've never been a cat person. Didn't grow up with a cat. Didn't want to own a cat, especially one that lived indoors and slept on my face (isn't that what they do?). During the first year after vet school graduation, Chadwick was working crazy long hours at his internship and I was feeling the lonliness rattle around the house when I came home from work. Chadwick's clinic staff found a little tabby who needed a home. I went to visit. And fell in love. We nicknamed her "Smitten." This cat got hold of my heart strings and has them tightly in her oversized, extra-toed paws.
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| He is obsessed with the ball. I'm holding one in my hand, hence the perfect stillness of his pose. Waiting, anticipating, hoping that I'll throw it sooner than later. He'll fetch until he drops. Or until my arm falls off. |
We adopted him in 2010 shortly after moving into our new duplex with our new baby girl. In his previous life, his name was Casey and he belonged to a couple who both worked full time, leaving this active yellow lab in the backyard with too much time on his paws. He started eating rocks and had one surgery as a 6-month-old to remove them from his gi tract. Same story, second verse six months later, and his owners decided a rock-eating, surgery-requiring dog was too much for their budget. I don't blame them. He hung out in a kennel where we were working for about a week, signed over to the clinic by the owners for re-adoption should someone choose to pay for surgery. We had talked about getting a dog, a big dog, a dog like the one in the kennel (minus the rock gut). We decided to do the surgery, take him home with us, and maybe just foster for a while.
He never left.
Chadwick brought him to our home after surgery in May while Morgan and I were still in New Mexico celebrating my first Mother's Day with my parents (Chadwick had been there as well but needed to return home for work earlier). Upon entering the house, the dog dig a lap around the tiny living space, grabbed the first stuffed animal he could lay his mouth on, and jumped up onto our bed, grinning as only labs are able. Cleo ran into the garage and didn't come out for a week.
Despite the "threats" of divorce if the dog didn't leave soon, despite the cat's distaste for her new housemate, and despite his history of eating rocks for fun, he remains a loyal companion and part of our family. Casey just didn't suit him....hence the name change to Darwin. He hasn't eaten a rock since thanks to a lifestyle change that better suited his temperament.
Yes, we love this dog. His official name is Darwin's Do-Do. And none of us would have it any other way.
