She Chose Us!

This is Chelsie---she is the fourth member of our family. We adopted her, but she chose us. Our life is enriched because she is apart of it. We didn’t intend to fall so madly in love with her—it just happened.

A few years ago I had to put our family pet, Divot, to sleep. It was such a traumatic experience for me that I told the family “No more dogs!” That lasted a couple of weeks. Don wanted a golden retriever—our favorite breed, but I didn’t want to do the “puppy training” again, so I contacted a golden retriever rescue to see if there was an older dog available for us to adopt.

Now, the process for adopting a dog from the rescue rivaled that of adopting a child. There was an astronomical amount of paper work; as well as home visits and background checks. When our “case worker” brought Chelsie to our house the first time, it was simply to see how we interacted with a dog. You see, Chelsie had been promised to another family. When Chelsie entered our house it was as if she were already home. We took to her immediately and she obviously loved us. She even sat at the back door and cried when Chandler ran back into the house to find a ball for them to play with.

This was not what the caseworker expected—this dog instantly bonded with us. As we watched Chelsie drive off that day, we were left with an empty feeling. Later that evening, we received a surprising email from the caseworker. She had taken Chelsie to the other family, but the visit didn’t go quite as well as she expected. She told us that she was “re-thinking” Chelsie’s adoption. Excited beyond belief, we actually prayed that we would be chosen. A few days later we got a call. Chelsie was to be part of our family—she had chosen us.

Ever since the day we signed the adoption papers, this dog has been an important member of our family. She is gentle, loving and so very affectionate. She has never run off—she doesn’t need a leash. She learned to “sit”—after her first lesson; she shakes, lies down and clearly loves us unconditionally. I laugh at the saying that “I long to be the person my dog thinks I am”, but with Chelsie it fits--if only I could be that person.

She loved Don. They spend hours together, and when he died Chelsie mourned with the rest of us. The vet even prescribed doggie Prozac for her. Now, she is closest to me. She has become my self-proclaimed protector. Wherever I am in the house, that's where you can find her. In these weeks of “counting my blessings”, Chelsie is one of God’s greatest.

This I know for sure.