This is a story for everyone, even if you don't have a dog.
Because it's a rescue story.
And all of us have been rescued.
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Prissy burst into my well-ordered life two weeks ago...unexpectedly...
Popping up first in Facebook Messenger as a photo...a bedraggled looking, wide-eyed, white fluff ball...
With the words, "Do you want her?" below the picture.
My first thought was, I knew being friends with a rescuer would get me in trouble.
My second? Ted is going to kill me.
But it was too late, I was already undone. So I spent the rest of the day working Priscilla into all our conversations...holding up her ragamuffin picture in front of Ted's face over and over again and expounding the virtues of a small dog and why she needed me. I mean...us.
Poor guy, he never stood a chance.
Much like the onset of labor, her arrival didn't come at the most convenient time. I was on my way to the airport the following morning to pick up my sister when the message came in: You need to get her. Today.
So we did. And thus Prissy bounced her way into our hearts and lives...during a month that was way too full already with commitments: a wedding, a funeral, and new job training.
Like a mother forced to leave her child in day care, I felt guilty each time I said goodbye and closed the door behind me. How would she ever adjust with so much chaos and change? I repeatedly asked myself.
But she didn't seem to care. Every time we returned from a trip...be it to the store or another state...she would fling herself into my arms and smother me with kisses, her little body trembling with joy.
I was falling hopelessly in love with her. It wasn't long before I realized that she didn't just need me...I needed her.
And that's why what happened next was so hard....