In a Whisper, All Changes

I didn’t dare to even whisper it. I shifted the computer screen to Ric’s line of vision, and left it there, open for him to comment. Or not.

You see, we’d applied to adopt two dogs – Havanese crosses, ages two and ten months – and been turned down by the rescue agency, as I said they would not be allowed to sleep in our bed.

“These dogs needs to be near their people at all times,” the agency advised.

Ric wanted to argue the point, but I felt it was useless. We were up against serious bureaucracy.

We’d decided to stop looking for a bit. Maybe go away for a short vacation; try again when we returned.

Call it intuition, or impulse, but I decided to look one more time on kijiji, and there it was: two dogs, bonded, needing a new home. It was the picture of the seven-year-old Morkie that filled the screen.

“Where is he?” Ric asked.

“Half an hour away. There are two. The other is a Havanese/poodle. Five years old.”

“Did you message them?”

“No. I wondered if you might.”

We visited them Friday morning with our granddaughter in tow.

After an hour, I dared to whisper the question to Pippi – obviously the team leader – “Do you want to come home with us?”

The rest is, as they say, history – glorious, heart-warming history.

*****

Thanks to all who participated this week. A whisper carries many implications, from fun or suggestive, to menacing or insightful. I think we covered it all.

Father’s Boom, Sgeoil
Future Revolutions, Reena Saxena
Sweet Everythings, I Write Her
Because, parallax
Last Words, RIVRVLOGR
Angel on My Shoulder, Stuff and what if…
Whispering Wind, oneletterUP
If Only…, radhikasreflection

See you tomorrow for a new challenge.

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Permission to write, paint, and imagine are the gifts I gave myself when chronic illness hit - a fair exchange: being for doing. Relevance is an attitude. Humour essential.

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