Sunday, April 4, 2010



Words cannot describe how much love I have for Cindylou, our boxer mix who has become my best friend over the past 7 years.
We got her from the Lowndes County Animal Shelter as a 10 month old puppy, after her owner turned his wife's two puppies because he didn't want them. When the man's wife came home and noticed the puppies gone, she went to the shelter to get them back. As an owner turn-in, the only way she could get the puppies back was to adopt them... and she only had money for one. Unfortunately (or rather, forunately for us) she chose to take home Cindylou's brother. She promised that she'd come back for Cindylou. But never did.

{Important sidenote} A few weeks later, my husband and I (boyfriend at the time) talked about getting a dog. He was in the market for a house, and thought it would be fun to have a dog. We never considered a breeder, even though he's always wanted an English Bulldog. Instead, we decided on adopting a dog from the shelter. We wanted a puppy so bad, a little one, that we could teach and train. We found one... a black lab puppy who was about 6 weeks old. Goodness, she was adorable. We signed the papers, paid our money, and waited until we could pick her up from the vet after he got fixed (it's required of all shelter animals, to help control the pet population). That night, I went to the store and bought everything we'd need for a puppy... including a cute color with a tag on it that read "Abby". The next day, I went to the vet to pick Abby up and take her home. The vet said that he needed to talk to me... that Abby was having problems. They'd ran tests, and thought that she had Parvo. Turns out, she did, and so did several of Abby's siblings at the shelter. It was a no-go for us... and they put them all to sleep (Parvo is a nasty disease).
I was shattered. I called Brett, and left sobbing messages on his voicemail. I went home, barely seeing the road ahead of me through the tears in my eyes. I was devestated. Later, I got a call from the shelter. They apologized for the problems, and said that when we were ready, we could pick another dog. The next weekend, we went back.{Important sidenote end.}

When we returned, we saw the cutest dog in a cage by herself. She wasn't an old dog, but she wasn't a small puppy like we had set out for. Still, she was beautiful... she had deep soulful eyes and a wagging tail. The sign read that she was 10 months (hey, in people terms that's technically still a baby... so she was technically still a puppy). Her name was Cindylou. We played with her, agreed to try it out, and took her home.

Truly, the
rest is history. I love her. And she's one of my best friends. She wakes us up each morning on time, cuddles with us on the couch, and gives the best kisses.

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