More About Don Carlos

 "The first day of forever was a day that Fate selected...The moment of our meeting was so very unexpected...But our first hello made it oh so clear...That the first day of forever was here. - Harry Belafonte

By now, everyone knows that Freestone got a dog for Christmas.  But how?  Why?  These are questions that only Santa Claus can answer.  Fortunately, I spoke to him and found out some of the back story.

You see, Santa Claus knew that our dog, Star, had died a year and a half ago.  He also knew that, before Star died, we had been forced to give a way our little dog Prestie.  Freestone was brokenhearted when we said good-bye to Prestie, but Prestie was an energetic little puppy who was hard on the ever-patient Star.  And it was hard for us to train Prestie.  He needed a better fit, and even though I knew it was better for Prestie, I still felt terribly guilty when we gave him away, and forever after.

One of the reasons it was right to give Prestie away was that Star was so elderly and tired.  A year later, while we were on vacation, Star died.   We were sad, but once we were dog-free, Scott and I kept saying how nice it was, and how we would never get another dog.  Freestone, on the other hand, still had his room decorated with dog posters, dog paintings, dog blankets and a whole army of stuffed dogs.  I tried to put it all away, but he got it all back out again.  If you even mentioned Star or Prestie, or any dog for that matter, Freestone's eyes would cloud over.  The boy was in pain, and it wasn't going away.  I came across a quote that said:

"In his grief over the loss of a dog, a little boy stands for the first time on tiptoe, peering into the rueful morrow of manhood.  After this most inconsolable of sorrows there is nothing life can do to him that he will not be able somehow to bear." - James Thurber

Well, if that isn't the most heartbreaking sentiment I've ever heard.  I had no idea there was a wound so deep in my boy's heart, and I certainly didn't want him to have to "peer into the rueful morrow of manhood" a moment too soon.  No wonder the loss of Star and Prestie made Freestone's face stony and miserable, even years later.  For a little boy, those were primal losses.

I said a prayer a few days before Christmas, when Freestone had shown his tender side again, that he would be happy.

 Enter Don Carlos.  It was a crazy thing Santa Claus did to bring a dog, but when I held that little dog, I had this feeling that Heavenly Father said, "I know Freestone.  I will take care of him."  Crazy, huh?  It's something powerful to contemplate, that my children - all children - are children of God, and that He watches over them as individuals, not just as an answer to the many prayers as of their parents, but because He knows their hearts.

 Don Carlos is a four-year-old Chihuahua who has been through some hard times.  He is sweet and cuddly, terrified and hyper-vigilant.  He hesitates to even lie down, always on guard, his eyes bulging at every sound.  But once he feels safe, he relaxes.  He hasn't made a peep, not a whimper.  He is housebroken, which is a huge relief (no pun intended) to me.

Santa Claus named him Don Carlos because was Scott's great-grandfather's name, and as a Spanish name, it just fits a Mexican dog breed.  It's very regal, no?

And it's not just Freestone who is smitten.  Everyone wants their chance to wrap him up in his blanket and pet him behind the ears.

I have never seen Scott hold a dog before.  He deflects the teasing by pointing out how much I like Don Carlos.  He came home yesterday to find me outside with the dog.  He said, "Somebody is in love!"  Yeah, YOU, Scott! :)

His buggy eyes start to close and then he hears a sound and they fly open again.

When Bill first saw him, I could almost see his heart melting.

Tziporah says, "He's DOH cute, Mommy!  He's DOH cute!"

Trajan was not impressed.  Nobody has been attacked by more dogs than Trajan.  (See:  the Smiths' dog, that dog in Switzerland and probably dozens of Brazilian dogs.)

He's DOH cute!  Ptolemy claims, "I love Dumb Carlos."  Yes, he thinks his name is Dumb Carlos, but he loves him anyway.  He is skinny, his ittle ribs poking out, so we've tried to offer him treats.  I even gave him a little morsel of ham, but he wouldn't take it.  Funny, because if you offered Star a piece of ham, he'd bite your hand off in his excitement.  Last night, Scott, Freestone, Ruby, Golda and I were hanging out with DC, laughing at his bug eyes and the way he freezes after he takes a couple of steps, when we heard a lapping sound.  Don Carlos had made his way across the room and was licking the ice cream bowl Scott had set on the ground.  We found the way to his heart!  And he's certainly found the way to ours.