"They Say Ruby You're Like A Dream" (song title from movie)

As I look around my house, I see the photographs of my pre-Dixie dogs ... some of whom resided in Connecticut with me, one that bravely traveled in my truck with me and a bunch of household items during my move from Connecticut to Knoxville in October of 1986, and several other wonderful dogs that I acquired after I got settled in at my first Knoxville house. Their framed pictures were carefully preserved in moving boxes in 2004 when I moved from one side of Knoxville to another, twice. In the days and weeks after Dixie passed into spirit, I took comfort in getting the dog photos out and putting them where others and I can see them. Faith Rose "Rosie" is looking down at me right now from the wall above my computer ... she's in a reddish brown frame (to match her poodle hair color).  I'll have to get the picture scanned so I can put it in the computer (she's sitting in the 1974 Ford Courier pickup truck that made the move).  

I had some multi-faceted talks with myself about whether to have another dog ... and "when" the time might be right. I found myself sitting on the benches in the park Dixie and I had frequented ... and I would sort of "borrow" people's dogs as they walked by. Petting a dog is such a soothing, spiritual experience.   

During the second week of May I saw an ad in the Bargain Mart featuring some of the dogs at Young-Williams Animal Center (Knoxville and Knox County's animal shelter). One of the faces peered out at me and I went to the main facility to see if she was still there. Yes, and the staff told me the sad story about her past.  No wonder she hardly would look at me in the "get acquainted room".  I kept talking to her in soft tones and petting her. She was at the shelter for a second lengthy time, after being confiscated from her first owner and then brought back in by her next owner. She was suffering from heartworm. Some kind soul had paid the money for her treatment (expensive) and her adoption.  God bless the person or persons who saved her! Her fur was growing back in at the two shaved sites of the medicine injections. The Shelter staff was fond of this 90 or so-pound dog and coddled her, though no adopter was choosing her. Probably it was a combination of her size, age (8 years), color (black dogs are the last ones to be adopted for some nutty reason), her heartworm recovery process, and what seemed to me to be her trust issues.  I took a leap of faith and filled out the adoption papers.

A trip to the pet supply store yielded toys, leash, collar, and dog food. Next day I went back and got her. She was  happy to get into my truck and seemed right at home lounging in the back seat. The first several weeks were rigorous for me because I had to leash-walk her around my hilly yard to keep her physical activity minimal (until the safe-date had been reached regarding her heartworm treatment recovery). Once June arrived, this sweet dog could safely walk and run off-leash in our fenced-in backyard and everything got much easier for me. Her personality has blossomed and bloomed!  She is very affectionate, very smart, and IMO very beautiful.   

I would like to introduce to my readers my awesome, wonderful girl -- her name is Ruby.