Originally uploaded by
kt40
This week at shutter sisters they asked for a photo that one of your children might hang-up in their house when they are older, a photo of them with someone they loved from their childhood.
The story of Cubana is as follows; I had managed to talk Jason into letting me adopt a dog from a shelter near our house. A shelter that has 400 abandon dogs and really only room for 250, run by volunteers(I was told that here, in this region of Italy, animal shelters are run solely by volunteers)
I went to the shelter by myself, the kids had no idea we had decided to get a dog. Jason’s only request was a dog that seemed easy going.
When I arrived a woman took me straight to Cubana, “This is the dog for you, her name is Cubana” she said. There lying on wet cement, fresh from surgery, laid a very skinny dog that was too “Out-of-it” to stand up. “No, this isn’t the dog.” I said adamantly. So she took me to look at about 100 other dogs and then brought me back to Cubana, “Are you sure this isn’t the dog? She is a very sweet dog.” and there was Cubana still laying there looking miserable while the two dogs who shared the kennel with her kept stepping on her. “I can’t take this dog” I thought, feeling somewhat irked that the woman had taken me back to see her again. “No this is not the dog.” I said yet again. I continued to looked at about 100 more dogs and then had to sit down to rest. As I sat on a bench surrounded by dogs I could only think of Cubana, “Could I bring home a dog who looked like she wasn’t going to make it until the end of the week…..what would Jason say…..and what kind of name is “Cubana” anyways?” The woman came up to me and said “Do you want to come back another time?” “No, I want Cubana.” I said, which probably surprised me as much as her.
When I pulled up to the house Jason was sitting on the porch I had to carry Cubana from the car up to the porch, which now is comical to think back on, I can only imagine what was going through Jason’s mind. “Oh great, out of 400 dogs she had to pick the dog that can’t walk.”
Cubana is the true family dog but at night she becomes Wyatt’s dog, it is his bed she sleeps on and she only deviates from this if one of the other kids are sick then it is their bed that she curls up on until they are better.
I don’t think Wyatt realizes that about three to four times a week he will say to me “I can’t imagine life without Cubana.”
“Me too” I always reply
*side note: The woman at the shelter asked us to bring back Cubana in one year so she could see her. We did all return one Saturday, a year later and the woman bent down to pet Cubana and said to her “You are loved.” then she looked up at me and smiled and left out the “I told you so.”
