Please welcome Harlequin author Lynne Marshall, who will tell us about her special dog, Milo!
I have a devious side, it turns out. I knew I had a birthday coming up, and that my husband would ask the inevitable question “Is there anything special I can get you for your birthday?” After thirty-one years of marriage, a girl figures these things out. But 2012 would be different. Instead of giving the usual, “Oh, whatever you want to get me, sweetie,” response, I was prepared.
But there’s a bit more set up first. In May 2011 we had to put down our second family dog. It ripped my husband’s heart out. Again. Mine too. He swore – never again. No more dogs. It’s too hard. Too painful.
It had taken two full years before Bill agreed to get another dog after we’d had to put down our first family dog. I know how wonderful dogs are and how much love they bring into a life. I simply couldn’t believe we’d never own another dog.
So, when hubby asked the famous question I recited my prepared speech, “I’d like a dog of my choice from
He was floored! I could practically see the battle ensuing in his brain. After all, he’d opened the door by asking the question!
On the appointed day in November (the 10th in case anyone wants to send me money this year LOL) we went out to brunch with some friends and lo and behold, a few doors down from the restaurant was a Tender Loving Canines shelter. They are a no-kill puppy store. They specialized in smaller type dogs (way too many
there! But that’s another story), and I wasn’t sure I wanted a small dog. We’d always had big dogs, Rhodesian
Ridgebacks, 80-100 pounders. Though I’d
decided I wanted a medium sized dog, just not a purse dog. Not me!
Well, it was my birthday, and my neighbor suggested I just take a peek inside. Oh, man, it was heart wrenching. Three dogs to a cage, yipping and barking to the point of not being able to hear myself. I glanced around ready to make a quick getaway, when I saw one little white dog refusing to participate with his noisy neighbors. He lay quietly in the front of his three-man cage, peacefully watching the chaos. I walked up and said “Hello, little fella,” and he sealed the deal. He put his paw through the cage for a shake. I looked up and read his brief history—four months old, Terrier Mix, born under a air conditioner in a back yard, two siblings, both had already found homes, at the shelter since he was a few weeks old. His name was Snoop.
I asked the helper if I could hold Snoop. My husband had that look in his eyes – you’re really going to do this, aren’t you? I think he thought I was bluffing about wanting a dog and that he’d call me on it. I wasn’t. I wanted my new dog. And his name was going to be, well something other than Snoop, that was for sure.
I paid the shelter fee right on the spot and we took him home. It took us a few days to come up with his name, but once I suggested
hubby liked it right off. He’s been the sweetest most loving dog, and he brings
both of us such joy. As much as Bill
resisted having a puppy at first, he is now as captivated by Milo’s
charms as I am. Milo
will celebrate his first birthday on July 4th.
Sometimes impulsive decisions are a nightmare, but not in this case…because it was the totally right thing to do.
There’s a dog in my current book – The Medic’s Homecoming, Harlequin Special Edition, July 2013. His name is Bart and he was written in honor of our last Ridgeback. (Because I hadn’t met
Milo yet, when I wrote it.)