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When Bernie Came Home
By Miki Stephens
October 2010
It was a normal September evening, nothing out of the ordinary. We’d decided to go to a book signing by Steven Kotler promoting his book, “A Small Furry Prayer.”
Upon taking our seats, a small, one-eyed, Chihuahua on a retractable lead, approached us. He was very friendly and full of energy, after a quick scratch he took off to inspect the rest of the crowd. Shortly after the little dog’s warm greeting the guest speaker began.
The author spoke of dog rescue and how profoundly it had affected his life. At the conclusion of his reading, he introduced Bernie, the happy one-eyed Chihuahua we’d met just an hour before. Bernie was homeless, eight years old and looking for someone to love him. His smile was large and somewhat toothless, his large brown eye sparkling, he was quite a site.
As soon as I heard the little dog was homeless, I turned to my boyfriend, Steve, and asked, “Should we take him home?” Without hesitation, he said, “Might as well, a dog that small won’t be too much more work than the others.” I agreed.
At the conclusion of the program, I loitered, listening to people ask questions as they gave Bernie affectionate pats on the head. I learned he was house broken, loved to cuddle, was a very sweet boy and had been found in a Home Depot parking lot. I also learned that nobody could take him home that evening, that there was an online application process one had to complete in order to be considered for an adoption. As soon as I knew what to do, I went home, grabbed my laptop and got online.
I couldn’t sleep that night, Bernie had cast his spell. He was the only thing I could think about for the next couple of days, I didn’t want to acknowledge there was a chance he wouldn’t come live with us. After what felt like an eternity, 24 hours had passed when No More Homeless Pets called and said he was mine.
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