J-Lo The Whippet

Last night I started looking for places in San Francisco and Berkeley. Scoping out potential options for me. I've had it good here. For a long while, I've grown accustomed to the comfort, space, and privacy that living in your own house can provide. I have two dogs to show for it. And I love them. But they most likely will not be able to come with me if I move. We'll see about that. Nothing is decided upon for now. For all I know I may be able to stay here. It really all depends on the news I'll be getting this week. 

I thought about things from J-Lo's perspective: in a short while, her whole world has turned upside down. Her pack has been reordered considerably. She was my mom's dog -her favorite. She would spend her days lounging on her bed or on the couch with La Suprema. Looking out the window, or soaking up the sun. It's funny, in the summertime she actually gets sunburned if I don't put spray sunscreen on her belly. Her tender underside is a maze of little brown polka dots on a pinkish white stretch of fur and skin. Her life was that of a beloved friend. A constant companion. Even when my mother would spend long stretches in the hospital, I would take J-Lo to see her. Out of the two dogs, J-Lo was definitely most comfortable in hospitals. She just got it. Instinctively. She knew that it was a time to be calm and tender. Gracefully, as if she could fly, she would spring onto my mothers bed, landing softly. Then, in a protective manner; as if to give comfort, she would lay her head across my mother. Sometimes even stretching across her lap. She did this when my mother was so bad that she couldn't even speak. She was just writhing in pain. Moaning. Dying in a slow mysterious death that nobody understood, or could stop. J-Lo was not like humans. When she witnessed this, the only thing she knew to do was love. She wasn't afraid. She had a job. It was to be with her human and love her. Comfort her. Protect her. And let her know that she was not alone. 

For her loyalty, I made her a promise. She took care of my mother when I was not able to be there. She loved and protected her and gave her comfort. When La Suprema was alone, she could reach out and feel the warm furry body of her dog, and it would relax her. For all of this...and because my mother loved her and asked me to as well...I promised that I would take care of her. That after my mother died, that I would keep her and love her forever. I may not be able to keep that promise as I had originally intended it. Not because I don't love her or want her. But simply because it's almost impossible to find a share rental that will accept dogs. The cute boy has offered to take my dogs if the need arises. I'm grateful for that. But it doesn't seem right that he should have to shoulder so much responsibility for one of my promises. Not to mention the fact that he would be delaying/possibly forgoing one of his dreams...the dream of a basset hound puppy. We'll see what the future brings. For now, I am open to all possibilities. And I will make the best decision when the time comes. I am willing to give J-Lo to a loving home if I have to. She deserves to have space to run. And a family.