We met at an airport.
I had just landed from my first year away at college and had finally returned to the midwest. In my absence there had been a new addition to the family; a new dog, Cash.
There he was, sitting in the back seat of my mom's car.
I was hesitant, at first, of the responsibility that this new dog would require. My mom was working 40-plus hours a week and I wasn't sure my dad, a disabled stroke survivor, was able to take care of much more than him.
When I met Cash, he was much bigger than I expected. Tall, long, and skinny; at least we had that in common. I looked at him and he looked at me. Both with uncertainty in our eyes we waited for the other to make the first move. I reached out my hand for him to sniff. The first rule of dogs is you don't put your hand in front of their face. They will surely snap at you. Not being an experienced dog owner I did just that. However, this dog did not snap at me. For a second he sniffed but after that with no hesitation, he jumped and licked me in the face.
A feeling of instant connection.
A moment that I can only compare to the “Did we just become best friends?” scene in "Step
Brothers."
With no regard for his size, he jumped onto my lap, where he only somewhat fit, and stayed there the entire ride home.
Cash had won me over. Nevertheless, his level of energy was still a questionable addition to my older parents and their new “no kids in the nest” lifestyle. The biggest question was my dad. I feared that the dog was going to conflict with his schedule and cause unnecessary stress that might cause my dad to return to the hospital. A fear that I already had every day regardless.
Boy, I was wrong.
To me, my friendship with the dog seemed to be the highest level of friendship. I was wrong. The dog and my dad were soul mates. Their first meeting was even more emotional than my first encounter with Cash.
As the story goes, my mom really wanted a puppy. Looking online she found a picture of a puppy at a shelter nearby who had a weird name and she fell in love. Forcing my dad to come with her, they drove to the shelter and inquired about the pup. They were escorted outside. As the helper pointed out the puppy, my mom and dad realized that this puppy was a puppy no longer. It was a full dog. With disappointment, my mom still asked to play with him. The helper warned them that this dog was abused by a larger man with similar stature to my dad. The proceed to walk through the gate. As they entered the dog's head quickly shot up. It took a look towards my parents and beelined in their direction. My dad closed his eyes thinking that the dog would run into him and push him down. With his eyes closed, he felt nothing. He didn't fall. All he felt was a wet nose and some slobber on his leg; the leg that causes him to limp from the effects of the stroke. It was like the dog knew. For the remainder of their first meeting, the dog stayed on that side of my dad and protected his leg from any offender. The dog was a protector.
Cash has been a blessing for my family. With his goofball attitude and unconditional love he has put smiles on my family’s faces bigger than any smiles before.
It is almost impossible to think of life without Cash. However, it is harder to think of not wanting him or even hurting him in any way.
Dogs in shelters are constantly looked over due to their looks, actions, or their age. A good dog is a good dog regardless of any of those characteristics. All dogs are good, some may have issues just like any human, but they are still good.
Sure, we rescued Cash. But even more, he rescued us.
