These Two Years
Two years ago on Black Friday, Geoff and I went out and made a purchase that changed our lives so dramatically that our lives haven’t been the same since. In fact, it changed our lives so significantly that it seems each year since, on the day after Thanksgiving, Geoff and I always give pause on that silly holiday called Black Friday and remember when.
We remember when I came across the advertisement in the newspaper earlier that week.
I had been bargain hunting for a long time, trying to find the right price for just the right item that would work for us in our home. With a purchase as large as this one, research is required. I had been pouring over newspapers for weeks, had been scouring the internet for months. Had read books and magazines for years really. I had always kept an eye open whenever we were in a store. Or within the vicinity of a store. Making a minor detour in our daily errands to oogle the merchandise. Standing in the impossibly lit aisle, eyes wide, while clutching the strap to my purse and staring longingly at the display. Walking away was always harder than the last time I walked away.
We remember when Geoff and I piled into the beetle that chilly Black Friday morning to answer that ad in the newspaper.
We had a long discussion the night before during our food coma. It was going to be a big purchase, but I knew we were ready for it. I had been planning for years and years. But Geoff wanted to be sure and so there was much discussion. Geoff talked a lot, making lists and ticking off requirements on his fingers, looking into my eyes every now and then when he wanted to emphasize a key point. I just sat there in a mild stupor, giddily staring back at him and nodding at the appropriate parts.
We remember when we pulled up to that farm and parked right outside the barn.
The barn door was wide open and the merchandise began tumbling out of it immediately. A scurry of differently colored blurs were heading out in all different directions toward us. Geoff was out of the car before I even had a chance to pull the parking brake into place. I sat there in the driver’s seat for just a few extra seconds after the crank of the brake and watched as Geoff and a smaller sized black and white blur approached each other. It was quiet inside the dome of beetle. It was November 23rd, and there was a heavy blanket of Oregon fog hanging just above our heads. I let my eyes fall away slowly from the scene of Geoff and the small blur and I looked up at the immense grey sky and wondered briefly if it was low enough to touch.
At this time of year, Geoff and I always fondly remember taking our new blur home.
We made a stop by the local pet store before heading home. We needed to pick up a few extra supplies that had somehow been added to the growing list of things we needed for this new blur. I cradled the black and white thing in my arms while I followed Geoff around from aisle to aisle. I was enjoying the light that was in Geoff’s eyes. I was enjoying the warmth that was in my arms. For only a moment, I placed our new blur on the ground. We needed to try on a collar and leash set. While Geoff and I stood before the large display and pondered what color best suited her, our tiny little blur quickly and efficiently puked up more dog food than we thought could fit inside of her to begin with. Before heading off to find some paper towels to clean up the mess, Geoff and I both stared in rapt fascination at the puppy to puke ratio. It really was quite amazing. It’s a fond memory.
And at this time of year, it’s hard not to remember these past two years.
We’ve visited the pet store many, many more times since that first visit. Luckily, she only puked on that inaugural visit. There have been puppy classes, potty training, agility school, a few rolls of paper towels, hiking adventures, approximately 25 broken frisbees, rabies shots, camping trips, numerous dog parks, close to 30 squeaky balls, swimming adventures, 15 de-squeaked squeaky balls, 3-4 visits to the boarder, too many poop bags to count, and hundreds of pictures.
On that first night with Bella in it, I casually snapped a shot of Geoff and Bella on the kitchen floor and now it has become somewhat of a tradition. Each year on the day after Thanksgiving I direct Geoff and Bella back into that kitchen and prop them up again on that same floor for another shot.
Bella at 8 Weeks:
Bella at 1 Year:
Bella at 2 Years:
