unwrappable

In my last post, I promised I’d share about my birthday gift. The extra-special-something-I’d-asked-for.

And here it is.

Or more appropriately, here she is.

Last fall, just a few months after bringing our beloved Noah home, I knew that someday I’d want another boston terrier. I am, if you haven’t already noticed, kind of an animal lover. I’d have a houseful of dogs if Chris agreed. And once we got our first boston I knew, even Chris knew, this was the breed for us.

I also knew that if we ever did get another boston terrier, I’d want it from this particular breeder because I trust her. She takes impeccable care of her dogs and breeds very selectively (and very rarely) – only her healthiest, most well-tempered dogs – for the betterment the breed, not for profit. She also commits herself to all resulting puppies for life, which is why, after his first family no longer wanted him, Noah lived with her for the next 18 months before coming to live with us. She took him home, rehabbed him and would have kept him forever if she hadn’t found just the right family for him. And I really, really admire that.

Enter this little one. A few months ago, I got in touch with Noah’s breeder for a friend who – after researching bostons and falling in love with Noah – was looking for a boston of her own. I put them in touch with each other and they were able to work something out (Noah’s sister will be coming to live in Birmingham!). She also had another dog that needed a new family – a one-year-old that had just begun her show career when she sustained an injury from playing with a much-bigger Boxer. And although her injury wouldn’t require surgery, it would require an early retirement from showing and placement into a special family. She also shared that this dog was an extremely well-loved “pocket dog”, who loved being petted, carried, even dressed up.

And she thought that a dog like that might be right up our girls’ alley.

Of course, I completely agreed.

Especially since our beloved Noah has limitations. His 3 years have been more of a rocky road than a smooth path. And we have to keep his history in mind when deciding if the kids can do certain things with him. Carrying him is one of the things that is simply not allowed. Only the grown ups get to do that. He’s also over 25 pounds, so carrying would be tricky for our 32 pound Poppy.

But not this little girl. She weighs in at less 9 than pounds, fully grown. She’s like a perpetual puppy who not only tolerates being toted around and loved on by little hands, she actually thrives on it.

And I wanted her in a bad way.

So, as any wise woman would do when she wants something really badly but knows her husband has every reason to say no way to her request, I asked for her for my birthday.

Amazingly, he agreed.

Y’all, I cannot even begin to share the healing I’ve witnessed in the hearts of our adopted kiddos because of our dogs… especially Noah (and, I suspect, just as much with our newest addition). But that’s another post for another day.

For today, this birthday girl – and her giddy girls – are blessed indeed.