NIGEL’S SECRET JOURNAL – EPISODE 4

So not too long after I was born, a couple in Boca Raton – that means Rat’s Mouth in Spanish – put a deposit on me and my brother. They adopted us when we were eight weeks old and now that I’m two years old, I realize the Rat’s Mouth should have told me everything I needed to know about how that adoption would go.

Now, granted, we puppies aren’t easy to get used to if you live by a rigid schedule. And this couple did, both of them on the fast track in corporate jobs, getting maybe six hours of sleep at night that we interrupted with our need to move, pee, poop, you know, do the usual dog things.

At ten weeks, our humans gave up and we ended up with Mary Lou. She texted Trish and asked if she and Rob  would like another golden. Trish said she’d be right over. So did Caren Griffin. After all, there were two of us. Caren already had several dogs but was looking for a dog for her granddaughter, Jen, and her kids.

I can still remember those early moments in Mary Lou’s living room, the three ladies on the couch, watching us, me and my bro. I was just ten weeks old, didn’t have a clue about much of anything. Why had my humans brought me here? I didn’t want to live with this Mary Lou whose place didn’t have a yard, nowhere to sniff, run, play. But I understand I was being given a choice. So when this woman, Trish, held out her hand and said, “You’re a little beauty,” I went right over to her.

She lifted me into her lap. I liked the way she smelled and what those smells told me about her. She would be home a lot because she worked there, out of her house. So did her husband. She had a daughter who would love me at first sight just because I’m a Golden. I’m not sure what that means to humans, being a Golden, except that I have crinkled fur on my ears and I really dislike conflict. But how would humans know that?

So I go home with Trish. My reception is stellar. Rob loves me. The cats are okay with me. The humans already have a red Golden already, an older dude, Noah, who just ignores me at first. I follow him around, I do what he does, I am his protege. He is my mentor.
My bro, now called Sunny, and part of Jen’s family, meet one day at the dog park. We recognize each other. We play. We trade secrets. We understand that we have different paths. But when he leaves the park, a part of me sobs.

Noah feels my sorrow and comforts me. From that day forward, we are nearly inseparable, Noah and me. He tries to teach me about Squirrels, but I love my ball, my Frisbee, the things my humans toss for me. I love to run and retrieve. I love to run, period, especially when the air is cool, the sky is blue and infinite, and I understand where I fall in the scheme of things.

Now Noah is gone. I still see him around, though. He drops by to check on me and my humans, especially now with this virus stuff going on. The cats see him, too. When Megan’s dog, Nika, visits, we sometimes curl up together and late at night, Noah visits to curls up, too. He’s never far away. After all, he was Nika’s big brother when she was a puppy. She and I are connected through Noah. Even here at the beach a few months back, Noah was with me and Nika.