A Dog Day Thanksgiving

Yesterday my husband and I arrived at my parents’ home in Maryland to celebrate Thanksgiving with them. I am excited for Chris and I to spend our first Thanksgiving with them as a married couple. For me, this holiday is made even more special by a little dog named Barack. Yup, he’s named after the president. The way he came by that name goes like this.

Growing up, I had two Chinese Chow-Chows named Cheech and Chong. They both died years ago, and our family has been without a pet for 20 years. My father promised years ago to give my mother another dog, but just like some chores he promised to do, she had been waiting a long time.

One day she and my father decided to visit the animal shelter. Out of all the dogs there, one stood out among the crowd, Capone. Capone would jump up on the door of his kennel when my mother walked by and nudge his nose between the gate to sniff her hand. This was scary at first because the label on his kennel described him as a Pitt Bull mix (he’s really a Labrador – German short-haired pointer mix). My mother finally worked up the courage to put out her hand to him. She felt a warm and sticky tongue licking the salt off her skin. He then looked up at her with his big hazel eyes and that was it - LOVE blossomed for both of them!  My father liked him for his rich chocolate color, and because he did not create a ruckus barking at everyone like the other dogs.

She decided to take him for a walk around the Humane Society grounds. Boy, she didn’t know what she was in for! If you ever watched a Roadrunner cartoon, you remember that whenever Roadrunner began to run, his legs would spin like crazy in a cloud of dust, and then, ZOOOM! Now you have the mental picture of what Capone was like as soon as he was let out of his kennel.  Capone pulled and tugged every which way he wanted. He was walking her! My mother continued to visit the shelter to see Capone weekly, hoping that my father would agree to bring him home. To her good fortune, I came down for a visit, and the first place that we went was to the shelter to see Capone. When I saw him I thought,

After I tried to walk him (and he nearly tore my arm off), I was not sure that he was the right dog for my mother. But then…I saw it! He was sitting in front of my mother licking her, and she was laughing hysterically. I hadn’t seen her this happy before. It was like the two of them couldn’t get enough of each other. I called my father and told him,

My father started to protest, but I told him that it was time to GET THE DOG! He wanted to make my mother happy, so he gave in. At last, we could take Capone home! We didn’t like the name Capone (gangster names won’t do for our dog), and needed to come up with a new name. At the time, Barack Obama was campaigning for the presidency, seemingly coming from nowhere to the brink of the most powerful office in the world. My father was (and is) a huge supporter of him.  My father felt strongly that our dog should have a name that is noble and honorable, so he named our dog, Barack. So began our life with Barack.

Barack, or Pud (short for Pudding) as I call him, has become more than a dog. He is a friend, a son, a brother, a confidant, a teacher, and the love of our lives. He has taught our family how to love better, live to the fullest, and to give thanks for everything. I will never forget the day when my mother was crying and Barack climbed on the couch behind her, put his paws on her shoulder, and licked the tears from her cheek. This act of love let her know that God will even use a dog to show that He loves and cares for us.

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