It is quite amazing the way things work out sometimes. A few weeks ago, Yukon and I, and the rest of the family, were still grieving over the loss of our beloved Yellow Dog. I had mentioned the tracks in the backyard; and my desire to replace a cherished running/office buddy to Yukon. While he understood my dog desires, he felt that a reasonable amount of time needed to pass before he would be ready to welcome a new member of the family.
Wanting some tangible way to know when the time would be right, we agreed upon two things. First, that the right dog would appear to us at some point, and we had to remember not to limit ourselves as to a certain type, size, etc. After all, some of the best dogs we have known were dogs we never expected to own. Second, the backyard needed to be covered completely with snow. Both of these markers would, we thought, give us time to get used to the idea of life without a dog, and then the idea of life with a different dog. At the time, the weather was still bitterly cold and sunny, with no prospect for any precipitation whatsoever. We were not cruising the dog rescue Web sites yet, nor looking through the classified section, so on that score we were safe. We went to bed that night convinced of a surefire plan.
We awoke the next morning to 8 inches of snow. Strange enough. Then I read an email, entitled "Great dog find".
Yukon's sister, who raises and shows German Shorthaired Pointers, had run into a young lady who was looking for a new home for her young dog; he was a too-short shorthair to be successful in the show ring. She had heard of our loss and offered her dog to our family.
Wolf smiled. Yukon wept. I took a walk, said a goodbye, and answered Yes.
Laughter through tears. Meet Jasper.