I Eat Dinner Sitting On The Floor

My bea-girl came to us in quite the roundabout way. A neighbor said he found her in a box with several other puppies behind the New York Times building off the Whitestone Expressway. She was so tiny when my husband, Michael, and I met her. She hopped more like a bunny rather than walking like any dog I’d ever met. But she was the perfect expression of beagle-ness, and our neighbor named her Princess. She had a bend in her tail which Michael proclaimed was her personality. She grew in varying increments. It was early in her life, and we’d visit - a lot. Good thing we were close friends with her family.

One day, Michael was going to collect our mail from our mailbox at the end of the street, passing by Princess’ house. Her human parents were on the porch quarreling. About the dog! Michael could only make out snatches, but it seemed that the husband had not found the dog as he’d said; he’d actually purchased her! Earlier in the day, papers had come in the mail, and the wife had gone to the same common mail station at the end of our block that was Michael’s destination and opened their slot to find AKC registration papers for a pure-blood beagle inside. But, of course, you do not get AKC registration for an abandoned dog. She was enraged. This was a woman at the end of her rope with a husband who had lied to her. She had three kids, two cats, a snake, and a husband who behaved like a five-year-old sometimes. Now he’d added to his bad behavior by lying to her about the provenance of this puppy.

Trying to smooth out a rough situation for our friends, my husband stepped in and said, “We’ll take her. If you can keep her for just two more weeks until school ends, we will take her.” He knew I’d never let our friend’s threats of sending her to the shelter come to pass without consulting me. No matter how much sneezing or itching it might have involved for me. So they settled that matter between themselves. Finally, he came home to tell me the news, and I was nervous but over the moon. Princess would soon be ours.

The Friday school ended for the year, I closed the door to my classroom for eight weeks and rushed home, where she was waiting with Michael on our front stoop. Nothing had ever looked better to me. We spent the afternoon playing with her, showing her around the house as if she were human, and trying to get her to potty outside. Then, Michael announced he was going to the ballgame with his friend. He was leaving us! Alone! Together! So there we were, just this puppy and me. She was in her crate, and I sat cross-legged on the floor right beside it. We stared at each other for what seemed like hours when I decided that I had to eat, and so did she.

I made some dinner and poured the appropriate amount of puppy food and water into her bowls. I then took her outside, and she did her business, for which I applauded and cheered and kissed her all over her beautiful little puppy face. Quickly I decided to sit at the coffee table to eat. I placed her bowls next to me on the floor to be right next to her.

We both dug in, and I talked to her throughout the meal. This would be how we spent the next thirteen and a half years. When the day came to let her go from this world because she was suffering, Michael and I each held a paw and told her how much we loved her and would love her always. I told her the story of how we came to be a family, which I often did, just like any adoptive parent tells their child. Michael talked about our vacations, dog park visits, and trips to the beach. I simply recounted that first night, the first dinner we shared, and how she changed my life in so many ways. Her bent tail, her incredible personality wagged until she was no more.

I will honor that fondest of memories by sitting at the coffee table and eating my dinner there until I am called to be with her at the rainbow bridge.