Right Where She Belongs

When it comes to finding a pet, some people have stories that could have only be written in the stars – from feeling a connection at the pound to being gifted their animal of choice. And while those stories are ethereal and wonderful in their own right, our story is a bit different. We didn’t find our wonderful dog Ivory at the pound or in a box under the tree on Christmas Day. As a matter of fact, we didn’t find her at all. But somehow, she ended up with us, right where she belongs.

During his last year of college, my brother Isaac was living with his roommate Kurt in what was affectionately called, the Pink Palace, a two-bedroom eyesore of a home painted Pepto Bismol pink. One day Kurt calls him and says,

“Hey, do you want a dog?”

“What?” Isaac replied.

“Do you want a dog? My girlfriend just found this dog and she can’t keep her in the apartment. So… do you want a dog?”

“Sure,” said Isaac, and Kurt brought the dog home.

At the time, she was a puppy, barely weighing 10 pounds. She was white with brown spots and the cutest little dog. She wasn’t immediately named Ivory. That name came to Isaac after a game of Soul Caliber and one of the characters named Ivy. After looking at this white dog with brown spots, it became evident that Ivory was the perfect name.

Ivory hasn’t always been the perfect dog. But what I know is she is perfect for us. One particular night nearly 10 years ago, I was at my parent’s home in the living room typing on my computer. It was about 12:30am and my mother came up to the living room followed by Ivory. She was wearing her usual pajamas, which consisted of a large nightgown and underwear - nothing special. She walked to the front door to let Ivory out before we all go to bed.

*Because Ivory is such a mild-mannered dog, she rarely needs a leash to go tinkle unless we want to take her for a walk. Boy were we wrong on THAT night. *

As I was working on my assignment, I could hear my mom say, “Come on girl, let’s go.” I assumed Ivory was finishing up out there and coming in the house. After about 30 seconds mom says “GIRL, GET OVER HERE!” I looked up and my mom was screaming out the door at Ivory, trying not to expose herself since she was only wearing her nightgown. Then, mom really started yelling “GIRL! GET IN HERE! GET. IN. HERE!” Keep in mind it’s nearly 1am. Finally, my mother looks at me and says, “What is that dog's name!?” I calmly reply, “Ivory." She returns to yelling “IVORY, GET IN HERE!”

After realizing Ivory wasn't interested in coming in the house, I told my mom I would go get her. I put on my cheap $2.99 beauty supply store house shoes with the soles coming off, and in my best attempt, ran outside to get the dog. It was more like a makeshift trot at best considering with every step I took, the shoes would fly off my feet.

When I went outside, I saw Ivory in the middle of the street, cavorting with the BIGGEST dog I had ever seen in my life.

I'm pretty sure the dog Ivory was flirting with had long surpassed eating Kibbles & Bits and had moved on to rodents and small children. He was a beast. A gorgeous, all-white, Siberian Husky type, but a beast none-the-less. The owner, who by the way is at least 15 pounds lighter than his dog, was trying his best to pull the Husky away from Ivory as I made my way down the street to rescue her.

I reached down to grab Ivory, but she misconstrued that with me trying to pet her and immediately fell on her back with her legs in the air. I said “Ivory, I am not going to pet you. Let's go," and she got up to chase the other dog. Suddenly, as I turn around, I look up and here comes my mother, charging down the sidewalk, in her nightgown and house slippers wearing a winter coat that barely covers her pajamas and carrying this stick that resembles a shepherds crook.

I immediately started laughing. I had never seen anything like that in my life. My first and only question was, WHERE WERE HER PANTS?! I could only imagine what the other dog’s owner was thinking, but I was sure it was a mixture of bewilderment, amazement, and sheer embarrassment.

My mother, who most people know as a no-nonsense type of woman, went up to Ivory with her stick and said with the authority of the Almighty, “GET IN THAT HOUSE!” while I stood in the middle of the street basically having a conniption from laughing so hard (complete with the shakes, crying and heavy breathing). I think Ivory could tell playtime was over and that she needed to take herself in the house, or she wouldn’t be invited back home.

My mother confidently walked back into the house as I profusely apologized to the dog owner, who himself was laughing.

As I walked into the house I wondered if God had a sense of humor, because if so, he definitely got a kick out of Ivory that evening.

Today Ivory is 13 years old, and although she has slowed down, she is still a bright spot when days can be cloudy. She still waits for my dad to come home from work, refusing to go into the basement where she likes to sleep until she hears the front door open. She still waits patiently while mom prepares her homemade meals of ground turkey, vegetables, brown rice, and eggs (yes, she eats better than us!). Ivory still enjoys slices of watermelon and walks with mom every morning. And she still loves belly rubs, just not in the middle of the street.

We savor every moment with Ivory, for we know they won’t last always. And while we didn’t find her in the conventional sense, I have no doubts she is where she is supposed to be, with us.