CHAPTER THREE SURPRISE!—I FINALLY TELL PRINCE CHARMING ABOUT SCRUGGS (15TH installment of Scruggs and Samantha)

CHAPTER THREE

SURPRISE!—I FINALLY TELL PRINCE CHARMING ABOUT SCRUGGS

(15^TH installment of Scruggs and Samantha)

I continued to hesitate telling Prince Charming that I found a dog I wanted to adopt. I knew that adopting an animal was a serious obligation. It was not something to be entered into lightly.  Once taken on, the obligation to an animal lasted for many years. I needed to find the right time to spring the surprise on my husband so he would not resent either me or the dog. 

Finally, late on Friday afternoon my husband finally asked me what was going on with me. His voice neutral at best. “So, you going to tell me what you were doing at the pound or will I come home and find the animal already in the yard?”

“Umm,” I said, stalling, trying to test the emotional waters.

The “umm” was enough to snap him to attention.  He’s a trained trial lawyer, and as such he had learned to listen to the silences or absence of words as much as the spoken language. 

“Umm?” he asked.  “What does ‘umm’ mean?”

I started to retreat.

Again he caught the hesitation and retreat.  “M. J.,” he said, using the Prince Charming voice, “what’s going on?  This isn’t like you.”

I literally did a toe-stub on the floor, just like a child caught in the act of misbehaving.  “Uhh, uhh,” I said.

Bless his soul; he did not roll his eyes at me, averting them to the side instead. His heavy sigh told me he was out of patience. I needed to speak or forever hold my peace. The happy grin of the twirling dog and the magic of his spirit finally moved me to speak.

“I found a dog,” I said.

“A dog?” he asked.

“Yes,” I said.  “A dog . . .” 

“But I thought we agreed,” he said. 

It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. It was the kind of statement that means I needed to do some fancy footwork to change his mind about something we had long discussed and to which we had mutually agreed. A mere wave of my hand and a, “well, I’ve changed my mind,” would have been disrespectful to him and to our relationship. I needed to give good, sound reasons for seeking to change the agreement. 

I took a moment to consider my response. Finally, I gathered my thoughts and spoke from my heart, knowing honesty was the best course of action.  “I didn’t go looking for a dog,” I said.  “You know I have been looking to do the right thing and adopt a rescue cat or a foreclosure animal, right?”

He stared hard at me but said nothing.

“You know I have been going to PetSmart and PetCo to look at all the cats.  You’ve even gone with me,” I said.

He nodded.

“Well, I decided to give the pound one last chance,” I said, tears beginning to well up in my eyes.

He saw my tears but still said nothing.

“Well, I got lost and found a Rottweiler, and next to her was a dog,” I said, letting it all jumble out of my mouth.  “The dog was so happy and so spirited and just acted like I was special. . .”

“Special?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I answered, thinking of how Scruggs had greeted me with such joy.  “He was so happy to see me.  I couldn’t help myself.”

“Hmm,” was all he said.

All of a sudden I started to cry. I thought of Scruggs and all of the lost animals at the Humane Society. I thought of all the sadness and loss experienced by the animals and their human companions.  How could such a dog, starved and homeless, still have such a joyful spirit?

“He was happy,” I said.  “He made me happy.  He touched me.  I can’t let him die.”

“Oh?” my prince said, his voice becoming gentler.

“I want this dog,” I said.  “I know it sounds crazy, but there is something special about him. I want you to see him, and I hope you want him, too.”

“Okay,” he said, resignation already coloring his voice.

“We need to go today,” I said.  “He goes up for adoption tomorrow, and we are gone, so it has to be today.”

“Hmm, and you were going to wait until when to tell me this?” he asked, with a slightly teasing laugh.

 “Until I thought you would be, you know, receptive,” I said.

“As if that mattered?” he said, smiling.

“Of course it matters,” I said.  “I respect you, and we have a partnership, remember?”

At that he laughed out loud.  “Oh, God, this dog must be something,” he said.  “You are pulling out all the stops on the persuasive speaking stuff, aren’t you?  When did you start asking for permission?”

Relief flooded over me.  I knew he was teasing me when he that. His eyes were gentle and his voice soft. We agreed that we always try to include each other in all major decisions.  Neither of us spent recklessly or did outrageous things but, occasionally, this rule was broken.

Like the time he traded in my car for a candy-apple–red Corvette; or the time I bought a houseboat as a condo on the water; or when I bought our current house before showing him the inside. So, well, yeah, oops, maybe we didn’t always share in the decisions, but increasing our family was one we needed to make together.

He gently took me into his arms as I snuffled my tears on his shirt and said, “I just wanted to make sure you liked him.”

“Okay, let’s go see what you want us to get into,” he said with the tenderness that only comes from being married so many years.

With him on board in the decision-making process, I scooped up the keys to the car, and we headed to the Pomona Valley Humane Society.  I had no idea the trip to the pound would be as emotionally difficult for him as it had been for me.