Good News

It’s been almost seven months since my beloved Brady passed away. 

Last night, we adopted an 8 year old chocolate lab. 

I drove to Greensboro in the driving rain. The coincidence was not lost on me. We picked Brady up one night during a torrential rainstorm. As a matter of fact, I drove that night, too.

I choked up a little bit. I was caught in a flurry of emotion that came and went just like that. 

[As I type, Fergus has jumped onto the couch and pushed my laptop away; thumping his tail with pride. I surrendered and moved my laptop to the armrest. Awkward typing at its finest.]

I believe, wholeheartedly, that things happen for a reason. Sometimes it’s good and sometimes it’s tragic. I don’t think it’s ever my responsibility to explain or know why-but I believe in a plan bigger than my own*. As Pollyanna as that may seem, I can’t push myself to believe otherwise. Meeting Fergus, I felt like Brady may have had a paw in that. Maybe, just maybe, he was sitting up there with God and waiting patiently for me not to well up when I talked about him. Panting and thumping his tail until that moment came; when he and God knew who would fall in place with us. 

On the way home from meeting Fergus (who was named Relic at the time)-we knew he was the one. We all went back and forth-Duke, Dude, Watson, Cooper, Copper; a myriad of names crossed my list. 

Big E was the one who came up with the name Fergus-and we fell in love with it. He shouted out from the backseat as if it were manna from heaven. Crying out, “Eureka!” would have been cooler than the “Yes!” that was shouted in unison from D and I. But, we don’t live in the 1840’s and we didn’t discover gold. 

I asked Big E where he got the name. He claims that it “just sounds like a good dog name, people might think he’s a person, but he’s really a dog. Like Abbey.”

The kid knows his stuff. 

(I thought he got it from the movie Brave, whose patriarchal character shares the namesake.)

But my Fergus doesn’t want to take down a bear. He is calm and sweet, he only wants to be loved on and he’s pretty stoked about the milk bones he receives once he returns from a potty break. Abbey (aka The Dowager Countess as I will now call her forever), is confused as to why he won’t play with her the way her brother did, why he looks at her with a blank stare when she woofs at him to go out, and why is he playing with her toys!? Tradition, people! We must uphold tradition!

[Fergus’ head is now back on my right arm-smacking my laptop with his paw. He is not amused that I’m still typing.] 

Ah, there-free again. But not for long. I have an old pup to love on-so with this I part…



*I know there is a world of people out there who don’t agree with this sentiment. I respect them and their positions. Reasoning out my faith in a blog seems too tricky and difficult, especially when faith or theology, rather, can be so fluid. I have yet to see anyone else do it, but believe me-I do think about it. One day, I want to unpack all my thoughts on God and organized religion…just not right now.


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it’s funny what can happen in 8 hours.

D checked our email before going to bed (because he doesn’t live by the same adages…) and there was nothing. (11pm-ish)

He was bummed, I went to bed and slept like a rock. ha.

fast forward to almost 8am…

I was talking to WeirdBird (my gal pal who is in from out of town) and had not quite sipped at my tea…I opened my email, while still chatting about how I’m not sure it…will…be…BAM! There it is-the glorious e-mail-the acknowledgment of receipt from HCMC US CIS!!!! Tucked between an e-mail from and one of my listserv digests. oh how beautiful…


We are now in the new wait, the final wait. Praying that within 60 working days we will be flying to meet our Little Guy. And then together we will begin our days as a forever family.

*sigh* yippee!!!!

now where are my lists…I have much to do!