It never got that much better after we picked him up six weeks later. But, as he got older, he mellowed a bit and by the time he got seriously ill, just a few weeks before his death, we'd gotten been pretty good chums for quite a while.
So, 13 years ago today, I was still devastated and convinced that I never wanted another dog. I never wanted to be put through that emotional turmoil ever again. But less than a week later, the mother was insistent and finally, that fateful Saturday morning, I agreed to go and look at puppies. Just to look.
How could I have known though that this would be the face that would greet me?
This would be the face that would snuggle my shoulder for hours, kiss me every time I asked, "Are you lovey?" and ultimately melt my heart during the course of a morning. I could not leave there without him. And, 13 years later, I'm so very glad I didn't!
At 13 weeks, Ozzie officially became a part of our family. That first week was quite rought. He cried ALL night, every night, no matter how we tried to console him. (I was reminded of this after getting a gander at ty'smommy's new babies.) We laugh now saying he'd cry like that if he wasn't with us!
He's not the brightest bulb in the pack, but he is one of the most loving creatures I've ever had the joy to be around. (Unless you happen to be the mailman.) He has a very healthy appetite and he likes almost anything (mushrooms and tomatoes not withstanding.)
He's no youngster anymore. He has good days and bad days. Some days he can barely walk. Others, he's as playful as any pup ever dared be. He's been there to comfort me on some very dark days and been only too happy to celebrate when brighter times returned. He continues to be my little shadow, no matter how he feels. He's the first face I see in the morning and the last one I see at night.
The bottom line: he adores me.
The feeling is certainly mutual.