Remi, the little Frenchie, came bounding into our life two years ago.
His owner was going through a difficult period and asked if we could take care of his beloved 2-year old French Bulldog for a month or so. My immediate response was an emphatic “no.” The thought of being tied-down with a dog that needed to be fed and walked multiple times a day, didn’t appeal to me in the least, especially since my husband and I were happily empty nesting.
My Mr. Nice Guy husband, who is always willing to help someone out, felt otherwise and asked if I would at least meet the dog. I agreed,
warning the entire car ride to meet Remi that I had no intention of changing my mind.
What happened next on that gray Sunday afternoon in February took me by surprise. The door opened and there was little Remi snorting loudly through his pug nose and greeting us on his hind legs, jumping up and down as if there were springs in his feet. I squatted down to pet him and wound up cross-legged on the floor with all 25 pounds of Remi in my lap, covering every inch of my neck and face with wet kisses.
In a matter of minutes, I caved. I heard myself asking all sorts of questions: “what does he eat, how often does he go out, when can we pick him up?”
The next day, Remi moved into our home and hearts. The things that I thought I would dread the most, such as early morning walks, became a welcome routine.
Winter turned into Spring and Remi was still with us. His owner needed more time and we were happy to oblige. We were planning our summer around Remi when we got the call that it was time for him to go back home.
Knowing that dreaded day would eventually come, sadly, we retuned Remi with all the things we had acquired to make him feel at home – a snuggly bed, a Tuffy toy and boxes of all-natural treats (only the best for Remi).
Just as quickly as he became part of our life, he was gone, and we missed him terribly.
After a couple of weeks of moping, we set out to adopt a dog of our own. We visited the local animal shelter and searched online, and eventually found a Frenchie that was abandoned in Philadelphia and rescued by a nonprofit group of veterinarians in Delaware. We drove 2 hours to meet “Spock,” a deaf bulldog, that looked alot like Remi.
The vets were pleased we wanted to give Spock a home, since deaf dogs are difficult to place, and just needed to make a home visit to ensure we were the right fit.
Not 10 minutes after we made the appointment for the visit, my husband got a phone call from Remi’s family asking if we could take him back. This time, when my husband asked, I didn’t hesitate to answer with a desperate “yes,” but only if it was permanent.
Less than an hour later, Remi was back. We were overjoyed to be a family again. Spock found his forever family too.
The love we give to and the love we receive from Remi is the of kind of love that makes me whole in my heart.