TO MY SON
I remember the day Mommy and Daddy decided to get you. A beautiful Sunday, Labor Day weekend. The day we would add to our family. We didn’t know what was waiting for us, but the promise of you was always there.
I really wasn’t sure about a boy. I really hope that doesn’t hurt your feelings, because there is absolutely nothing wrong with being a boy! Mommy always had girls, and you are just my first, that’s all. I didn’t know what to expect. I should have known you would be my little piece of heaven right here on earth. I wouldn’t have you any other way. Who else is going to be my Little Man?
We turned that corner in the shelter, and there you were, so cute, but aloof and not sure. You were so scared, giving us your “pound look”, ears back, eyes diverted. You were the littlest guy in the place, with so many big dogs with big barks and big personalities around you. I bent down to check you out and see what you were. Your little boy part. Oh well. Daddy looked at me. I could tell he loved you already. I knew at that moment you would be our son.
We asked to see you, took you out of that horrible cage, and you never went back in. We walked you and kissed you and cuddled you. You still weren’t sure. We understood. I cradled you with one arm while I signed your adoption paper, bending down to kiss you every chance I got. I rocked you and kissed you some more. The lady smiled and said to you, “you hit the jackpot, little one.” No, my baby. It was Mommy and Daddy who hit the jackpot that beautiful day. As Daddy likes to put it, we “busted” you out of “Jack Jail”. What a beginning to the adventure.
You know the first few weeks were hard. We would try to love you and you would fearfully jump up, run away, and hide. You were so broken. Mommy was so afraid that you would never bond with us. But you got better and more accepting. It had to be on your terms, in your own time. So typical of my Little Man.
I love everything there is about you. Even when you get cranky and hide under Mommy and Daddy’s bed for your alone time. Mommy understands. She likes her alone time, too. Your soft fur, your kisses and nose nibbles, how you are so wiggly and cute after you go potty, the spots on your belly, how you play with your sister, how you bark and kick your legs when you want something, and won’t stop until you get it. You snuggle in your blue blankie and I swear I can watch you breathe all night.
You are my Moo Moo. My Pooh Bear. Grandma’s Mister. But most of all you are my Stinker. You are just too much, my son. Little tough guy, never afraid to stand your ground or vocalize whatever it is you have to say. Even dogs four times your size, they don’t scare you. Daddy laughs and says it is from your “inmate days”. Mommy likes to call it your “terrier ‘tude”.
You weren’t sure about your sister in the beginning. But you put on your Big Boy pants and got on with loving her just as much as we did. It didn’t take long. Now you are quite the team, keeping Mommy on her toes, just as children do.
I can’t even describe the love I have for you. You may as well have come from me, as if you danced under my heart before arriving to make your mark on the world.
It has been two years of heaven, having you for a son.
Love you, my Moo,