“What you seek, is seeking you” — Rumi
We had been trying for months to adopt an older dog for rehoming. For one reason or another, we kept getting knock-backs. The main issue seemed to be that we were both young working professionals and might be leaving the dog on its own for what was deemed too long. No matter how much we pleaded, explaining that this was absurd as we both worked flexible hours and within walking distance from home with heaps of time and love to offer, we were dismissed. After a while, we gave up.
Several months later, my husband picked me up after work.
“I’ve withdrawn some money out of the savings account,” he said as I climbed into the car.
I put my bags down, sat back, and turned towards him. He looked straight back at me, grinning from ear to ear, beaming with utter elation.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
He put the car into gear and we pulled away. “Well, you know. We’ll just see…,” he said, smiling softly to himself.
The Frantic Puppies
Bubba chose us.
Three puppies bounded over to us, the two girls wildly trampling over one another in their floppy playful way. Bursting with energy, one ran straight over to Paul. He picked her up, her tail whipping away at his chest. The other scratched at my legs, running my tights and jumping up on my lap without warning. She gave me sweet-sweet puppy kisses.
Angela, the dog breeder, looked a little disappointed as we overlooked the third puppy in all the excitement. She sat down next to me.
“Well, that one there…,” she said, pointing to the strong, chunky little guy sitting quietly, serenely on the floor, “is called Bubba.”
Our jaws dropped. The room went silent. We both stopped. The frantic puppies still wriggled in our arms. Paul and I stared at one another. Angela looked at us as if she has said something wrong.
“Umm…is everything all right?” she asked.
I did a double take, looked at her, back at Paul, down at Bubba, then back up at Paul again. Our eyes locked. We softened. Angela held her breath, waiting for one of us to finally say something.
That little, black, glossy-coated dumpling just sat there peacefully, literally on Paul’s foot. Calm, relaxed and content, he was the complete opposite of his two whirlwind sisters. More like us. How could we have not seen him?
Paul slowly placed the puppy girl down and gave Bubba his full attention. Still sitting on my husband’s foot, this adorable dollop of baby fat turned his thick little doggy neck up toward him to meet his gaze. They looked at one another, like lovers, for the first time. We melted.
You see, we were going to call the pup Bubba anyway, and then here he is, sitting patiently, politely on my husband’s foot, waiting.
He was the sweetest thing we’d ever seen. Bubba was in no rush. Comfortable and confident, he held his space. I am going home with you, remember? That’s why you’re here. To come and get me. To be my humans. There was no further discussion.
We immediately took care of the paperwork and went home with our boy.
Made Me Better
Nine years on, Bubba has made me a better human being. He has shown me the pace worth living. He has taught me to trust, stay open, and above all, to see the best in life. It’s simple really: rest, love, eat, repeat. Slow down and be here, now. Be easy on yourself and remember that sometimes a nap in the afternoon sun is just what the soul needs. With nowhere to go and nothing to do but gently drift away to the sound of your own breath, remember to dissolve into the infinite goodness all around you and be comfortable and at ease in your own space.
Bubbaji (and his feline brother Fuji-san) are my greatest teachers. Every day I am grateful to be their human and for them choosing us.