But I sucked it up as did he and we ventured out into the pre-dawn so he and I could get a good walk in. And by the time we came back around to head home, the sun was just coming up over the Verdugo Mountains. It was the first time I've seen the sunrise in years. And the only reason I would have seen it then was because I was still up from the previous night, not because I woke up before it.
I was nervous bringing Murphy back to work with me. The higher-up's took it in stride when I apologized to them for having him there, and they knew I wasn't a blatant law-breaker, but had a darn good reason for it. Of course my boss, who had wanted to bring his dog in every day and wasn't allowed to, was totally supportive as he liked dogs in the office. But since the main concern was people's allergies, I didn't want to seem disrespectful. So when I came in, I told people that we were lining up a new foster, probably by this afternoon.
And indeed it was the truth. The original plan was for me to meet up with Lavinia at her job on today where Murphy would spend the day and then return home with her. But the producers on her project said today was not a day for the office to have a dog due to executives coming in, and she wasn't sure if her car would be fixed by then anyway. Her back was getting worse, and she still hadn't seen a doctor. So, after a good discussion, we decided it was best for Murphy that he go to a foster who could keep him for the remaining two weeks. Unlike Mickey, Murphy had a line-up of fosters ready to take him. He would never see the inside of a boarding facility.
Thursday is payroll day. I do payroll. Unlike Wednesday, I had to leave my office to deliver paychecks. Since Murphy had been with me for a whole day, I was hoping his insecurities of me not returning to him might have wained. But I was wrong. I stepped out of the office and he started to cry. My associate walked over to the wall, and I'm not sure what it looked like to her, but from where I was in the hallway, it sounded like one of the Dobermans in Higgin's mansion was finally closing in on Magnum, P.I.
There was no way I could keep Murphy in the office. And Lavinia's idea of having Murphy as an office dog seemed like it wouldn't work out. I called Katya and asked a huge favor. She had family in town, which is why she wasn't fostering him herself. And she had agreed to take Murphy today, but now I needed an additional day. I explained the situation, and she offered to come pick him up, but I insisted I take him to her. She already was going above and beyond. It wasn't more than a half hour round trip for me.
And so at 11am, I left work to bring him to Katya. I figured being gone for an hour was less of a problem then being distracted by a dog for the remaining seven hours of my workday. He would spend the day playing with her dogs, so I figured he'd have more fun than spending it with me anyway.
Sure enough he had. When I went to pick him up last night, Katya said he had been hiking in the Silver Lake hills, and was thoroughly wiped out. Indeed he was. When we got home, he came up and collapsed next to me on the couch, belly up to the world. I tried to focus on watching Flash Forward, but was completely distracted with trying to get a good picture of him. From my vantage point he looked like this:
I imagined if someone was to walk in my front door and see us sitting there, it was even more adorable. Thank goodness for digital cameras. No need to waste 35mm. I must have taken over a dozen shots at arm's length trying to get the angle just right to capture the cuteness.
He was so wiped out that when I moved slightly, his head fell backward into the back of the couch and he still didn't wake up. That's the thing with puppies--they're either zero of sixty miles an hour; nothing in between.
When I finally made him get up so I could get ready for bed, it was time for 60 mph again. He ran around, playing and tugging at his toys. This time when I got out of the bathroom, he wasn't right there waiting for me. I looked into the bedroom and there was a moment where I caught him staring off into the air, not paying attention to me. The instant he saw me, his whole demeanor changed. His ears went down, his butt went up, and he flew toward me like, "Oh my goodness!! You're back!! I'm so happy!!" and jumped all over my legs in greeting.
As we lay down for bed, he had his back to me, and it looked like he was staring up at the wall. On that particular wall next to my bed there is a memorial of Dutchess that my friend put together. It has a big photo of her in the center, others around it, and it gives her birth and death date. It really looked as if he was studying it while he lay by my side.
"You see her, Murphy? That's Dutchess. She's the one who taught me to do this. She's the reason I do this. You give her respect, got it? She's the queen."
He gazed for a little longer and then rested his head down and closed his eyes, leaving me to gaze up at Dutchess' photo alone. Indeed she, along with my first dog Noodles, are the ones who taught to me to love dogs. When Dutchess died in 2002, I couldn't love another for a long while. But when I was ready to, I chose not to get a dog for myself. I chose to love as many as I could; I chose to do this, to volunteer my time, my heart to dogs who needed it. Some of them never knew love at all, and some of them knew of it at one time and wondered if they'd ever have it again. And so it is Dutchess that is owed the gratitude for all that I do for homeless canines. She taught me to love, and allowed me to let go, not to love specifically just one other, but to love all in need. Thank you, Dutchess, from the bottom of my heart, and from all the dogs who have shared my love already and all those who have yet to do so.
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