She’s Lucy, who used to be Ginger.
She’s all legs and the controlled clumsiness of a puppy.
She’s sweetness and kisses and cuddles.
She’s not what we expected this time around. She’s a little bit naughtier and a whole lot bigger than her predecessor.
But like every soul that came before her, she has taken hold of our hearts with a grip that is filled with hope and healing. She’s going to fill that void. A little. For now.
A whole lot more later.
How do I know this?
You could say that it’s the element of certainty that my mom will be rewarded for saving this wiggly, kissy, filled with boundless energy furball from a life within a cage.
You could say that my mom’s just the kind of person that can’t help but return the love showered upon her.
But the truth is that you can tell from her eyes. Every dog has eyes that give you a peek into their temperament, their capacity for listening and love, and their affinity for naughtiness.
Miss Lucy’s eyes do not disappoint. Their clear cognac brown depths just scream thank you. Her eyelashes, yep this dog has the longest eyelashes, bat at you and make you forgive her for trotting through the living room with your bra in her mouth. You find yourself glancing sideways to see her doing the same while she’s trying to chew on your ponytail and you know she’s just sayin, I love you. And in case you are blind and miss out on the message, she’ll slide on up and sneak in a kiss or twelve just so you know for sure.
You take one look at that face and you fall in love.
Told you so.