“Remoted” Workday 180 / Day 269 (Thursday)

The photo where I fell in love - 2009.

Today is the anniversary of Moose’s “Gotcha Day.” Eleven years ago on this date, Moose was picked up from the vet after being neutered, and took up residence at my home in Tennessee. The boyfriend I was living with then had pestered me about us getting a dog for months. I finally agreed (caved?) under the condition that I got to choose the dog. After a few nights invested in browsing all the cute dogs on Petfinder.com it had become mind numbing, then Moose’s picture appeared. It was love at first sight. My heart was captured.

Moose had been residing at the Montgomery County (TN) Animal Shelter, which had a high euthanasia rate. It was basically doggy death row. The shelter was close to my work and we went on my lunch hour to see him. Thank goodness we knew which dog we wanted, because the place was full of adorable dogs. Moose was frolicking in a pen with a similar sized dog named Eddie and looked to be having fun. Moose came out for a visit with us, was a very sweet pup, and my instant love was amplified. Papers were completed and Moose went from the shelter to the vet for neutering and then home to us. For the first couple months, he didn't utter a sound and I wondered if his vocal cords had been altered. He finally found his voice and hasn't stopped using it since. The boyfriend who insisted on us getting a dog moved out several months later but Moose and I (and Winston) have longevity. Moose is my longest relationship and Winston is a close second. It seems I am capable of long-term commitment after all.

My Moosie love in 2020.

We’ve been through some things, Moose and I. The summer of  heartworm treatments. The fabric eating, which included pillow corners, random holes in his blanket, his bed, his toys, and the armpits of my favorite shirt, and left patchwork piles of decorative fabric poop on the lawn. There was his peeing on the rugs under the coffee table and dining table. The worrisome multiple events of his mysterious swollen leg, which was discovered to have a BB pellet embedded in it, but the BB was not be the cause of the swelling. 

Moose got me through some (too many) dark and lonely times, and when I broke my leg playing roller derby, he dialed his energy level down closer to mine and was my constant companion during the recuperation. Later, when he seemed depressed and mopey, Winston came to live with us to keep him company. When being away from my human family had finally gone on for too long and the reasons to stay in Tennessee became fewer and fewer, Moose, Winston, and I moved 1,200 miles back home to New England. And now it is still just the three of us, looking out for each other, staying in through the pandemic, and growing old together.