“Thanks, good buddy. Be in touch. Keep the inner peace!” I tell the sweet-natured bloodhound. Thinking over his new predicament brings me to the conclusion his family couldn’t tolerate having a dog drooling on their fine stuff, most especially the prissy poodle who keeps forgetting she’s a dog. Makes my heart hurt thinking about Otto lonely in the backyard of his own home. Sure as anything, I’ll find the bloodhound beauty a Kahu like mine needing the love of a good dog and with a lot to give. Larry and his sidecar come to mind along with Chihuahua Lola who would be thrilled to sleep under his jowls.
I glance over at my Kahu snoring lightly in a deep sleep dreaming about coming a long way from an orphanage with the other rejected kids waiting for someone to love them. I pick up the slack and sling an arm around his skinny body causing a sigh of contentment to interrupt his melodic snores. With eight billion people and nine hundred million dogs in the world, you’d think it would be easy for dogs to find someone to love them. A human has higher standards for their canine companion while a dog has only one, kindness. Every time someone stops Kahu on the street they glance at me and ask what breed he is, will he grow bigger, and does he shed much? No one has ever asked how big my heart is, but blessed Kahu will only respond with the words, “Bernard has a heart bigger than all outdoors.”
I don’t know why a famous inventor decided to stop at the Mastiff Rescue Facility bent on finding a dog who needs him except he is a brainy sort and would know Mastiff’s are affectionate, soulful animals with an imposing presence. They aren’t given to chewing on the mailman or picking the neighbors’ flowers, rummaging in garbage cans, or going for rides in random pickup trucks to feel the breeze on a hot day. Nope, they’re homebodies and love their families, the neighbors, and the mailman who laughs with joy when pulling up to a house where a Mastiff waits patiently to greet him with a paw bigger than his own hand. This dog got lucky the day he felt a connection with the man wearing crooked glasses, a sweet smile, and displayed an eagerness to meet Yours Truly. I could hardly contain myself when seeing him walking toward my cage hoping I would take a shine toward him. I knew enough to get a hold of my rambunctious puppy behavior and act like I had some manners, so I pretended to be a laid-back dog until he took me outside and wanted to wrestle on the ground. That was the very moment we fell in love, so naturally I hurried to the car with his smell on it and opened the door. A hysterical volunteer came running with the paperwork, but my new Kahu pulled out a wad of money along with his card and told the over-anxious volunteer to send him the paperwork and expect an annual donation to the Facility.
When studying his card, he became dumbstruck and shouted, “You’re that inventor John Whitley known for your robotic organs. You saved my brother’s life. I can’t thank you enough; it’s an honor knowing you will be homing one of our dogs. Yes, of course, I’ll send you the paperwork. Thank you.” They kept pumping hands. The enthusiasm of both men reassured me I was going to a place I was natural born to be.
I fell asleep in a real bed with a silly grin of memories showing on my face, knowing this dog now lives in the lap of love.