Twenty years ago today, my Mom was late coming home from work. My Grandma was fixing breakfast for dinner and my Great Aunt Alta was visiting. I was pacing back and forth between the door going out to the garage and my bedroom’s front window, anxiously waiting for my Mom’s black, Jeep Cherokee to pull in the driveway.
I had feared the worst: she was in a car accident. Even though I was seven at the time, I now see how my worst-case scenario mindset helped me to eventually grow into my troubleshooting personality. Thankfully though, there was no car accident. My Mom eventually made it home.
Before my Grandma could stop me from running out to the garage to see her, I had already booked it outside. Just as quickly as I had run out the door, I froze. I saw why my Mom was late. She was holding a Bichon Frise puppy.
My Mom had attempted to surprise me for my upcoming eighth birthday with the present I had listed at the top of every birthday and Christmas list: a dog.
Long story short, this puppy came to be known as Snowball and an adventure of a girl and her dog commenced. One that would last for fourteen years.
That night though, I couldn’t sleep. I wanted to soak up every minute with my new friend and relish in the fact that I had received one of the biggest desires of my heart.
