Oh, lovely Penny. Has it been two years already?
Well, almost. You came to us the week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve, two days before John went in for his shoulder surgery.
We worried it wasn’t the right time.
Turns out it was the perfect time.
We were grieving Cooper, who we had only lost a couple months before your arrival. John and I were feeling like we needed more time to process, but the second you climbed into Violet’s lap, we knew. She exclaimed, “Mom, she loves me!” And that was that.
I don’t use this word lightly, but I use it truly: You came to us needing to recover from some serious Trauma.
We don’t know everything. We know you were one of many, many dogs kept in deplorable conditions outdoors, possibly caged most of the time. We read an account from one of the rescuers that was the stuff of nightmares. You were with a puppy who was separated from you after rescue, and you bounced from the hoarding bust to a foster in Kentucky to a rescue in Indiana to a foster to us. And by the time you got here, you needed to recuperate. You have a BB lodged in your side, scabs all over your face, and a chunk missing from your ear. Your milk was still in.
You slept for two weeks straight.
I even called the vet because I was so worried. I said to her that we needed to get you out of bed to go outside, to eat. That you were too scared to walk further than our own driveway. And then you’d just go straight back to bed.
“Let her rest,” she said to me. “She finally feels safe, and she needs to recover.”
So, as John recovered from shoulder surgery, Penny, you slept by his side.
And, then, one day… you woke up.
Little by little, we could walk you further. First down our driveway to the front of the house and back. Then to our neighbor’s driveway. Then across the street. Then, one incredible day, you made it to the end of the block. We celebrated each milestone. Sometimes there’d be a setback. One day, the people across the street were having work done on their internet lines, and there were traffic cones set up around the work. Well, we didn’t even clock the cones… but you did, and that sent us scurrying right back home.
Over time, you recovered faster and faster from each setback until nothing was setting you back at all!
I’m not sure when it happened that first year, but at some point, we realized you could go anywhere, do anything.
You adore trips to Lowe’s and the bookstore. You love hikes and hanging out at a coffee shop. You love meeting new people, especially children, and you are totally neutral meeting other dogs. We’ve done some training classes, and you’re always so steady. So calm.
Once your nervous system healed, you became unstoppable.
After a year, we were still having two “challenges” with you, Pen: First, you try to snitch trash any chance you get. We have to be vigilant. John installed a magnet on the trash can, but even still you go for it. Second, you were relentless in trying to get the girls and cats to play with you. You’d run up to any of them and bop them–hard–with your snout. Or you’d thwack them with your paw and drop into a play bow. Needless to say, human children and little cats did not appreciate this.
So, we decided to get you a sis.
From the first day, you two were a perfect pair. There’s no question that you and Stola were meant to be for one another. Where you are calm, she is wild. Where you are gentle, she is rough. You snuggle each other, play together, and spend your time side-by-side. We discovered you have a smidge of a resource-guarding issue, but it’s super manageable because it’s only for the highest of high-value treats and chews. Luckily, Stola rolls with it.
You are a magical pup, Penny.
Everywhere you go, people gravitate toward you. You are a gentle light shining joy into this world, and I am so very lucky I get to be your person.
Happy gotcha day, sweet Penny. We love you so, so much.
