This great line from Oona Out of Order by Margarita Montimore, jumped off the page, and had me screaming YES (in my mind)! The words gave me an immediate kinship with the character and a sense of belonging, a reiteration that I am not alone, that someone out there understands me.

Books, Books and More Books

I’ve always loved books and escaping into them. I had a normal, almost boring, childhood, so I’m not sure what I was escaping. My biggest complaint is that my mother forced me to do activities I didn’t want to do—ballet, ceramics, taekwondo, youth groups, summer camp, teen tours. She literally would say, “well, you can’t sit in your room and read all day.” That is exactly what I wanted to do. There is nothing better than climbing into a book, that’s how it feels to me, and it’s still my favorite thing to do.

Dog Bite

Dogs, however, I have not always loved. We had a few when I was growing up. My dad always brought home strays, and when I was a teenager, my mother brought home a Dalmatian from the beauty parlor. The dog didn’t like children, that’s why the woman my mother met while getting her hair done was giving him away, and since I was small, like a child, he didn’t like me.

Still, I had no issue with dogs until my neighbor’s Irish Setter took a bite of my face when I was eight. With half my head in his mouth, now I have a scar under my chin and to the right of my eye, near my hairline. I was a little skittish around all dogs after that.

I spent the rest of my childhood as a cat person and a book person. When I wasn’t at school or with a friend, I was reading or hanging out in the backyard with my three cats, Pepper, Lightning and Smoky. I read to them, of course, and tried to teach them things they probably already knew, like tree climbing. I have a vivid memory of holding one of them up against a tree and lifting his paws to mimic tree climbing motions. Poor cat.

From Fear to Friend

I probably would have remained a cat person, except that when I was twenty-two, I fell for a guy who had just adopted a dog. We raised her together, and I became a dog person. Years later, when we broke up, it wasn’t easy losing the guy, but I couldn’t bear losing the dog and the guy. I went straight to the Humane Society and adopted a six-month-old German Shepherd Border Collie mix and named her Shelby. Other than eating my textbook when I was in grad school and not particularly liking my new boyfriend, who I married, she was my best friend. She slept in my bed, showered with me, loved car rides to my parent’s house and went everywhere I went, including work on casual Fridays.

Shelby died at seventeen-years-old and the two years we went without a dog in the house were lonely. I missed her company and unconditional love. When the kids and I finally convinced my husband that another dog would not be more work for him (we tried, but it is), we adopted our current dog, a Soft-coated Wheaten Terrier.

You Get What You Need

I had wanted a female puppy, but what was available through the rescue group was an almost three-year-old male named Mr. Arbuckle III. We call him Artie and we’ve created a family pastime of creating affectionate nicknames for him such as Schmoopy, Artemus Prime, Mr. Fluffypants, Marty, Arthur, Not-So-Smarty, Fluffernutter, Menace, Artie McFly, Captain Stinkbeard, and Chef BoyArtie.

Fast forward almost seven years later and even with all his faults (there are many), Artie fills just as much of my life as Shelby did and I’m sure I will forever have a dog in my home and my heart.

I’m Artie’s favorite person because he understands that just as he loves me for my imperfect self, I love and accept him as well. Everyone else in the family would trade him in for a dog who was more loving, retrieved a ball, didn’t steal food off counters, didn’t bark at unexpected noises (thunder, fireworks, whistles, motorcycles, farts), didn’t hunt and kill every critter he can find in our backyard and didn’t jump and pee on new people who enter our home.

Best Birthday Present Ever

If I’m not in my office or the kitchen, I’m hiding in my room reading with Artie curled up on his bed right next to mine. His company and a good book (or even a bad one) is the best solution to any problem, a salve to any pain and simply a great way to pass my free time.

So yeah, when solitude and despair hits, you’ll know where to find me.

PS. The canvas shown here of Artie was last year’s birthday present to me from my family. I chuckle every time I look at it and sometimes now, I call my dog Sir Artemus.

Thanks, Margarita Montimore, this is one great line.

If you’d like to read more about Oona Out of Order, click here.

If you’d like to read about me and why I started this blog click here.