Day 3 of my resolution–not doing too bad. Granted…it’s only day 3. Day 3 is easy. It’s at about Day 33 when I’m sitting on my couch in my bathrobe with nothing to say that this resolution will be difficult.

Anyway–here is BEBOP! The new puppy. Doesn’t she look like a mini coyote?

Now, anyone who knows me knows that I am NOT a little dog person. I mean–I love all dogs, of course. All animals, even. But for me, it’s always been big dogs all the way. Boxers, labs, newfs, retrievers. Dogs whose faces and can grab and mush. Dogs who I can lean on and sleep in the arch of their belly and drop my face into crying on a bad day. However, I popped into the Sean Casey Animal Rescue because I wanted to offer my photography services in light of Luna’s passing. And while I was there, of course I looked around.

There were a ton of sweetheart dogs. Some big, some medium sized. Mostly pit mixes (which I am NOT a person who is afraid of a pitbull. I think they are the sweetest little mushes ever), but after Luna I really wanted a dog who I could overpower and not the other way around. Just in case something went array again, I wanted a dog that I could handle and control–for me, I feel it’s the responsible thing to do.

And then there in the corner was this tan little frail thing shaking. All the other dogs were barking and playful and also sweet as can be (and anyone in NY who is interested in a dog, please check out Sean’s establishment! They are SO wonderful there!), but she sat there cowering with this pink harness still on her body. The harness looked clean and new. Like someone loved her and cared for her enough to buy an expensive and fashion-based item.

“What’s her story?” I asked holding up my knuckle to the cage and clicking my tongue at her.

“She was just brought in today, surrendered by her owner,” the man had a gruff voice with a strong Brooklyn accent.

Still shivering, she leaned toward my finger, sniffed…licked, then huddled back in her corner.

“Why? She looks like she was a pet store kind of puppy…probably wasn’t a cheap buy for the owner.”

“Oh, he said his other chihuahua was beating up on her too much and he didn’t think it was fair for her.”

I stuck my knuckle back up to the cage and again she came over for the company. “Hey girl–were you being bullied, baby?” And as I stood there staring at her, so afraid, I started crying. I don’t know if I was crying for my Luna. Or for this new puppy. Or for all the barking, caged dogs surrounding me–none of whom deserved to be discarded like garbage. But I stood there crying for a few minutes.

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” he did his best to comfort me, “She’s a beauty. She’ll find a home in no time.”

“Can I meet her?”

And the second I said the words, he and I both knew the deal was done. He let her come home with me for a couple of nights to foster her–almost like a test trial.

I named her Bebop–a type of improvisational jazz–because my ownership was quite improvisational, too. And, well, after the Cowboy Bebop cartoon too. But mostly the jazz thing–yeah.

So, I’m happy to introduce the newest member of my family–Bebop Java Katana.

The middle name story will be up soon…