Life with an American Bulldog

In September 2010, I had recently moved to a new town and started a new job. The job was extremely stressful, the house was too quiet, and I was lonely. I decided to browse the listings on Petfinder.com. I looked at many furry faces who needed homes--puppies, full grown dogs, seniors. 

Then, a big, bulldog face appeared.

The profile listed her as a white American Bulldog named Pearl. To this day, I can't fully understand why I was drawn to that profile more than any of the others I viewed. I firmly believe God knew I would desperately need her companionship in the two rough years that followed.

I called the number provided in the listing. When I told the lady I was calling to inquire about the American Bulldog, she couldn't believe it. We set up a time the following day for me to meet Pearl at a vet's office in Nashville. When I arrived, I met a skinny dog who timidly came over, leaned against me, and seemed so relieved--sort of like she already knew she had found her person.

I had not driven to Nashville that day expecting to take her home. I just wanted to meet her and then think about it for a few days. Well, I found myself saying, "Absolutely! Of course, I will take her!"

The lady from the animal rescue was in tears. She proceeded to tell me that when I had called, Pearl was on the list to be euthanized that day. And, not just that day; within the next 30 minutes. The vet was already at the animal shelter checking names off the list.

30 minutes. That's all that stood between her and death.

I loaded her up in my vehicle. We went to PetSmart. She threw up four times on four different aisles. Stress, I suppose. After the fourth time, I was too mortified to go back up front and tell the PetSmart guy what had occurred. As he was cleaning up the three previous vomit episodes, I kept saying, "I'm so sorry! I just adopted her, and I hope she isn't sick!" To his credit, he was very nice and patiently cleaned up the messes. I purchased food bowls, treats, and honeysuckle cologne spray, and exited the store as quickly as possible. 

I renamed her Eleanor. It means shining light. Little did I know how fitting that would turn out to be.

In all my years of animal ownership, I had never adopted a full-grown dog. I always chose puppies because I could raise them to my standards. I was apprehensive and fully expected to face bad habits Eleanor had picked up before coming into my life.

Much to my surprise, she was perfect. She quickly fell right in with the schedule of my house. She got along well with my two outside dogs. It was like she had been with us for years.

To my delight, I discovered she was funny! Hilarious, actually. She would have me sitting in the floor, cracking up at her antics. She would look at me for approval, like a comedian on stage waiting for applause. 

She also looks like a leopard seal pup. Eleanor is a great combination of hilarity and seal-like features.

It has been almost three years since the day we first met. Eleanor has helped me through some of my darkest days. She lives up to the meaning of her name--shining light.

She rides shotgun on road trips, sleeps at the foot of my bed, is the most joyful dog I've ever met, and feels the need to be with me at all times--such as when I am working on my computer and not paying attention to her. 

"Mom? Mom? How can Pinterest be better than spending every waking minute with your favorite leopard seal?"

"Not going to pay attention to me? Fine. I will give you the stink eye!"

"Well, the stink eye didn't work. Time for the pleading, sad, seal eyes. Please notice me! If you don't, I might actually die!"

"You can't ignore me when I drape my 50-lb. body across your computer keyboard and proceed to lick your nose. Whatever it takes."

Such is life with an American Bulldog.

Getting a dog? Please adopt! You will save a life!

As an addition, I recently found Eleanor's (A.K.A. Pearl) original profile picture on PetFinder in the Happy Tails adoption section. Upon closer inspection, I was shocked to realize that the picture I saw three years ago was not Eleanor! The differences were subtle enough, I did not pick up on them when I met Eleanor for the first time at the vet's office. The animal shelter brought me a different dog than the one in the picture! I don't know why Eleanor's profile was listed under the wrong dog's picture; there were several bulldogs at that shelter, so it might have been an honest mistake.

Either way, we were destined to be together.

The dog in the profile.

Eleanor on the day I adopted her.

Yep, definitely a different dog.

My powers of observation are beyond comprehension; keen and unmatched.
 Yeah, right. Who am I kidding? I couldn't see through a barbed wire fence.

Now I know the Lord sent her to me! :)