Sadie Pooch

Lots of folks have asked how Sadie has done with the move, and I'm happy to report she's doing really well.

When Amy and I moved to Erwin from my grandparent's home on Simerly Creek Road, our sweet little dog Mamie just couldn't handle the change. She clawed to get out and was basically miserable. Part of the problem was she hadn't, in the past, been left alone very much. When Amy and I left for work, we'd just take her next door to my parent's house.

When we moved to Erwin, though, she had to be left at home alone while we were at work. I don't think my new neighbors would have taken too kindly to dogsitting Mamie. When it became clear that Mamie was miserable, Mom and Dad agreed to take her in. She was happy there, and she became a wonderful companion to my parents as they faced illnesses over the last few years.

So in March of 2000, Amy and I found ourselves in our new Erwin home but without the daily comfort of a good dog – something we had grown to love. Sadie won our hearts at the Johnson City Animal Shelter, and she's been part of our lives ever since.

I always thought Sadie would do all right in the move. She's a fairly laid-back pooch. When I would go home for lunch each day in Erwin, she'd stretch and welcome me home with a mighty ... yawn. Sadie knew that Daddy (that would be me) was responsible for bathroom breaks and filling water bowls and food bowls. He was pretty good at rubbing tummies, too. He was also a strict disciplinarian. Overall, though, Daddy was as much of her routine as barking at the FedEx man.

Momma (that would be Amy), on the other hand, somehow always garnered much more glee. Amy deserved a bounce from the bed and an anxious tail-wagging arrival each and every time she returned. Momma didn't fill water bowls or food bowls. She didn't take Sadie out for bathroom breaks. (Could be moths out there, she'd say.)

Mamie adored us, but she loved her sanity more. Sadie wants to be near us always, but she's independent, too. Her fluffy bed sometimes works as well as being curled up with Mom and Dad on the couch.

Here at our new house, she has a lovely little courtyard to run around in. She loves sticking her cute little head through the iron fence to see what's happening. Passer-bys – joggers, cyclists, kids with basketballs – get quick wags of the tail from behind the fence. Each morning, I open the French doors to the courtyard and Sadie bounds out to check out Lafayette.

She lets me know when she's bored with the scene and is ready to come on. On a few occasions, I have forgotten to check on Sadie, and she has moaned pitifully and made a few scratches on my new doors as she demanded to be let inside again. I can't really discipline her for scuffing my newly stained wooden doors when I've forgotten the poor little baby outside, can I?

Right now, I'm looking down the hallway, and she's being "Flat Pooch," that is, sprawled out on all fours and giving me that stare as only she can.

She's 11 years old, and she's been through two surgeries in the past few months – one only a few weeks ago. She's adapted well, though. She seems happy in her new home. In fact, we all are. Amy and I are amazed how much it feels like home. Could it be true that home really is where the heart is?

Got a little more unpacking to do this weekend. A few more pictures and paintings and such to put on the walls, too. Everything is coming together, though. We're getting it all together.

I'm just happy my little dog has been OK with the move. She keeps me grounded. It's time for her nightly feeding. Gotta go!