It’s funny. I still think of myself as a novice dog owner. My new book, Am I Boring My Dog, is written from the point of view of someone who’s recently been there, worried about that. But posting the details of my latest contest made the fact that five years have passed since I adopted Frankie (in October 2004) sink in.
I suppose my continued sense of freshness and awe — not to mention insecurity — is a result of coming to dog ownership later in life, a time when we don’t always take new experiences for granted. Or in stride.
Also, I’ve often said adopting Frankie after years of hesitation about getting a dog was a leap of faith. I imagine, then, that my experience is akin to being born again, with all the newfound zeal that involves. In this case, it even includes talking in tongues: I’ve been known to bark and whine at Frankie, in misguided attempts at communication (I must have a lousy canine accent because he never responds in the way I’d like).
And the more I learn, the more I see there is to learn.
But I digress. To mark the fifth anniversary of adopting Frankie, I’m going to look back at some of the highlights — and lowlights — of our years together. I’ve given up predicting exactly where this will go, or just how long I’ll pursue this thread.
To start at the beginning with a teaser: This is the picture — sent by my friend Rebecca, at the time with Arizona Schnauzer Rescue — that changed my life.
Frankie is about 5 years old here. I’d always figured I’d get a new model dog, but that notion flew out the window too when I saw that little face.
By the way, for those who are wondering how Frankie came by his first two names, see What’s In a (Dog’s) Name?