Monday, March 12, 2007
Her name is Georgia.
I have a dog. Her name is Georgia and, yes, I do that whole "who's a good girl?" goofy, silly voice thing for her.
If not for the beautiful and sane (but not during college football season) wife of mine, there is no way she'd be my dog. My wife, whose blog is named UGAgrad1995, is a proud graduate from, you guessed it, the University of Georgia. And so, when a family friend announced that he had bulldog puppies for sale, and those bulldogs were of the same bloodline as UGA, the University of Georgia's very famous mascot, I had no choice but to skip the whole "how much" query and just nod and say "OK" to Paige. (For the record, if not for loving my wife and her happiness as much as I do, there is no way I would have ever paid the eventual answer to "how much" for any dog, cat, or whatever.)
Within the week, we made the drive down to Paige's hometown of Nashville, Georgia to select the puppy who would soon be our baby. Among the litter were so many little cute doggies, but we were both drawn to the one with one brown eye and one blue - and blind - eye. There was just something about her and soon this young married couple had their first family pet. We visited, wrote that check, and then took little Georgia back to our home in Tennessee. She was so tiny then, scared of the stairs, scared of new rooms, scared of anything that moved toward her from the side of her face where there was no sight.
She's a big girl now and lacks not at all for love, but she's still scared of steps, new rooms, and pretty much anything that comes her way from the right. At one point a year or so ago, the blind eye was bulging out a bit and the vet recommended just surgically removing it. One successful surgery, and a week or so in a halo (how embarrassing!), and now she's affectionately known around here as "the one eye love."
We do love her so much. She's just over four years old now and although she used to be so much more active than her breed is famous for, she now mainly inhabits the quiet corner behind the couch, where she feels safe from the rowdiness of the kiddos. What does she do back there? Snores and farts. That's about it. I wish I had her life.