Tomorrow Chloe will turn five years old. She is gorgeous and smart and so loving. I love my pooch.
Honestly, up until five years ago, I have never been an animal person. Don’t misunderstand me, but we never had animals in our home growing up do to allergies and asthma, and frankly, the limited experience I had with dogs throughout my life have always been negative. Maybe they sensed my fear, but if you were a seven year old child, and a big Dalmatian jumped up on you, knocking you down, and with pinned you down, growling in your face and barking not happy barks in your face, you might be a bit scared too.
Of course, as I grew older, and I learned more about animals, I grew a very cautious respect around animals. Puppies and kittens were always the exception. Who could be afraid of puppies and kittens? It was the adult dogs I was wary of being around.
Then one day, my daughter’s boyfriend, now husband, decided we would take a road trip. As I sat in the backseat, and as we traveled deep into the terrain of Jamul, which if you know anything about Jamul, it is nothing but mountainous desert with very little inhabitants. I have to admit, my daughter caught the look on my face in her rear view mirror, and she joked to her boyfriend, “I think my mom thinks we are going taking her somewhere remote to kill her and drop her body never to be found”. Oh my goodness! That is exactly what I was thinking.
Instead, we pulled onto a long dirt highway that led to a breeder of Jack Russells. It was there that I fell in love with Chloe who was only five weeks old and fit into the palm of my hand. My daughter’s boyfriend bought her for me as a gift. He said to me he thought I needed something to love. He didn’t add other than your daughter. I named her Chloe Cleopatra for Chloe, Sean’s dog that passed on, and Cleopatra for her all white coat and dark kohl eyes and ears.
Since, my love and bond to Chloe is cherished. She feels for me when I hurt. Chloe cuddles with me and keeps me company, and she is always playful and energetic like her master.
Now I can add, she is my hero. Yesterday, after I took Chloe for a walk, as I entered the house, with the front door still open, I tripped on the carpet and fell hard. In my fall, to protect my already injured back, I twisted, cramping my calves and straining my neck. The calves were so cramped I screamed when the pain shot through me, and I could not get up right away. Chloe ran out the front door. When I realized she ran out the front door, panic assailed me. I feared when I had fallen and screamed that I scared Chloe into running away. I forced myself up despite the pain I was having, and with shear panic and force, I ran out the door to find my poor baby. I only got a few feet into the courtyard when my neighbor presented himself with Chloe in his arms. I was so happy to see her and so grateful. He asked me if I was all right. I explained what happened, and I told him I thought I had scared Chloe into running away. He told me she came straight to him, allowed him to pick her up, which she never does. He thought she came to him to get me help.
I grabbed my Chloe through tears streaming down my face. She licked me silly with what seemed to be a smile on her face. She is my hero. Chloe ran for help. We are happily reunited with her sleeping in my lap, her favorite place. Chloe Cleopatra is amazing, and I love my baby pooch. Until we meet again, this is Linda Misleh Wagner, Future Former Fatty.