We’ve been together only a month, and already, I’m crazy in love! I kept it quiet (until now) because … well … I wasn’t sure it would work out. He’s been around the block a few times—you know how baggage goes—but I thought he was worth the risk.
He’s tall, dark, handsome, and incredibly smart. He's strong, well-traveled, well-mannered, kind, and responsible. Yet he’s wild, adventurous, free-spirited. Very creative. Tons of fun. And he makes me laugh from morning till night.
We’ve kayaked together; sailed, hiked, and climbed rocks. On Wednesday, we watched a grey whale puff his way up the narrows during our early morning constitutional. On Thursday we picnicked on the beach, snuggling close as the sun set. On Friday he brought me crab. Saturday, a seal’s flipper. And this morning … a half eaten fish.
His brows knit together and his soft amber eyes fill with confused disappointment as I squirm at the delicacy of the day, so proudly dropped at my feet. I kiss his nose and ruffle his head, “Good boy Dylan. Come on … let’s go chase seagulls!”
I renamed him Dylan, derived from Welsh mythology: Dy = Great, Lan = God of the Sea, very appropriate since he's of Welsh origin, loves the ocean, and Dylan Thomas is one of my favorite poets. This Great God of the Sea was rescued from an abusive situation in Nebraska. He then spent several months traveling with his rescuer in an 18-wheeler across the States. But it was unfair to keep a working dog confined in a cab, so the trucker reluctantly turned him into PAWS. He was fostered out to a lovely foster mom down on the WA/Oregon border, and then I adopted and brought him up to Seattle. He's a Welsh Border Collie mix, about 2 years old. And he's a keeper!
