It’s 5:47 AM and there’s a thumping in our bed. I squint awake to see one brown and blue eye staring at me with commanding intensity. A happy tail is the racket maker, beating our mattress and Smokin Hot Love Biscuit’s left calf.

“She’s pushing me off the bed,” SHLB complains. His tough exoskeleton act is a flimsy front for his extra-large cardiac muscle.

“Is that why you have your arm around her? To get her off you?”

“It’s a self-defense strategy. Otherwise, she might attack me.” His eyes are still closed, lips upturned in a grin.

“I think you said that because she’s part Pit Bull.”

“Probably so,” SHLB answers as Toast rolls onto her back for a belly rub. We oblige her with obedience.

“Happy Gotcha Day, Toasty,” I say as she nuzzles me. It’s been a year since Toast came to us as an emergency re-home. We flunked fostering with flying colors.

***

I have known and adored many canines. Skippy was part of the family before I was born. She was a loyal guardian and watchmate over our farm. Skippy hated thunderstorms.

Daddy had assorted bird-dogs. The most famous was Bob, who ate tomatoes from the vine, a behavior Mama did not find endearing. My childhood also held Toby, Pepe, and Buddy.

We had a cat named Mrs. Johnson, chickens, cows, a goat named Sam, pigs, rabbits, and mongrel horses. My sweet, stubborn pony was Calico. It’s the dogs that were my companions, setting the trajectory of my pet life.

Grandaddy Calt had an Irish Setter named Lady who killed snakes with a swift shaking of her head. I can still see Grandaddy by his pond in Pointer brand overalls, Lady at his side.

In adulthood, there was Shadow, Denver, Ranger, and Rocky. Our children had Winchester and Fergie. Only Fergie lived long enough to retire with us to Beaufort, and she had a good four-year reign as Queen of Ann Street. All are passed on now, preserved in urns, recalled through pictures, encased in love coated memories.

SHLB had a Collie named Trooper and a Boxer named Sport. When he was nine, SHLB’s family moved to Scotland and Sport went to live in West Virginia. Summers reunited them at his grandparents’ farm.

Sport ran just in front of Grandpa Oscar’s front tractor wheel, adjusting his speed along with the motor. Long before there were cell phones, Sport delivered handwritten messages, pinned to his collar with the simple command, “Go find Grandpa.” Off Sport would go, traveling without fail over the expanding acres and hills that struggle today to hold a cellular signal and not drop a call. 

When Sport’s health declined from age, Grandma Nellie stove cooked special meals just for him.

In Scotland, SHLB had Bess the Labrador, and her puppy, Porgy. Bess went everywhere. Together they walked stone walls and dammed creeks, sailing a toy boat in the pooling waters. They were adventure partners as SHLB found his footing on foreign soil.

We are animal lovers, funneling down to our deepest essence. At our core, we are dog people, which brings us back to Toast aka Toasty, the Toastinator, Toastaroonio, and Toastest with the Mostest. (To our friend Bobby, she’s Toaster.)

I’ve rescued, found, and bought dogs. I don’t come down hard in any category, as I bend toward the live and let live philosophy of life. In all my dogs, there is something hard to name yet remarkable about our little Toasty. Here are some of the things we’ve learned from her:

1.     There isn’t anything better on the planet than a ball, unless it’s running after a ball, or having someone chase you once you have a ball or going to sleep with a ball in your mouth. The best ball is the newest one, or the one closest to you, or the one that you forgot you played with yesterday.

2.     Whether your humans have been gone for hours or just stepped outside to water the flowers, greet them by wagging your entire body. Run and gallop around as though you just won the doggy sweepstakes. It’s a great way to say hello as relentless enthusiasm is always the answer.

3.     When sleeping with your humans, it’s important to alternate your cuddles, sometimes walking back and forth on the bed in the middle of the night, so that they both know how very much you love them, equally, without preference, except maybe it’s smart to love Mom a teensy bit more.

4.     Squirrels, birds, and rabbits are to be charged and chased. Must catch all the furs and feathers. Turtles, on the other hand, are to be feared. Public Service Announcement, give shell bearers the right of way. They appear slow and withdrawn, but under no circumstances are they to be trusted.

5.     When your humans sit on the sofa, especially if they have the Barefoot Dreams blanket, it’s time to swedge between them and take a family nap. Sometimes Dad does this without Mom, especially in the mornings after he exercises. It’s like second breakfast, only it’s morning napping. It. Is. Righteous.

No matter what has happened, maybe you were an abandoned stray and then in a shelter and then being trained by inmates in a correctional facility. Maybe you were adopted by people who said they wanted you, then didn’t understand your energy and in response, crated you all the time. Then crating stopped working to their satisfaction so after eight months they started the process of returning you to the prison program. You didn’t even know they had saved the receipt.

Maybe here is where faith could start to waver and fray at the edges because dang, you’ve been so many places and you’re just two years old – or you think you are – no one knows for sure because your beginning is undocumented and foggy.

Then you put your suitcases down at a house where people get a kick out of your rambunctious side and laugh at your quirks and are patient as you negotiate the scars of your past. You can’t believe your luck that you get a home with a Bark Box subscription delivering new toys and treats every month addressed to Toast Carter – your new last name. You have water dishes in every room and the metal crate is put away in the attic because you’re welcome on the big bed. You pull yourself together and learn to walk beside your humans on a leash and restrain yourself from lunging at action scenes on the tv and replace frantic tail chasing with rolling a toy on the floor when you feel anxious and worried.

Just like that, things take a turn for good because you didn’t give up on your dream, the rescue happened, and your humans view you coming into their life the exact same way – a two-way path paved with happiness at the intersection of pup and people.