Love in a Parking Lot


Some people say that watching loved ones reunite at the airport is a happy thing to do. I wouldn’t know. I never go anywhere. Not that I’m complaining or anything, because really, there’s no place I’d rather be than at home on the couch with my family.

But today I learned about another really neat thing to do: Watching families meet their new dogs in a parking lot.

Stuey and I both rode in the trucks driven by the nice guys who help with dog rescue. And as excited as we were to come to Connecticut, it was kind of a delayed reaction for us, since we went to a foster home for a while first. We had to prove that we were awesome before we got adopted.

Today we watched as families waited — some actually jumping up and down with excitement — for their new pets. They had only seen their dogs in pictures, and today was their “gotcha day.”

So fun! My mom took this picture of a little girl named Claire, her mom, and their new best friend, Benji, who came from the South, just like Stuey and me. He got off the truck and immediately licked every face he could reach.

Claire and her family are super lucky, and so is Benji. If you’re ever in a bad mood and need some cheering up, go to the commuter parking lot with the 18-wheeler with pictures of dogs on the outside. Tell Kyle the truck driver that Roxy says hi!

Roxy and Stuey’s Purpose


Even as dogs, we know we all have a purpose in life. Some dogs are meant for greatness, like the amazing Fidelco Guide Dogs and search and rescue dogs. Some are really good at fetching (neither of us has actually grasped that skill), while others have mastered the art of running on a leash at the same pace as their owners (we both tend to get a bit too excited while running, and end up dragging our poor mom down the street.)

We may have finally figured out what our purpose is. Our mom has had to stay in bed all week. We’ve hardly left her side. (We even try to follow her into the bathroom, but she apparently likes her privacy.)

But even though she seems to hate sitting still and is wicked antsy, we’re doing our best to keep her company.

If we had thumbs, we’d bring her some coffee and fold the laundry. But we don’t, so we can’t. We do, however, know how to snuggle. We’re crazy-good at snuggling.

We know now that our purpose is to take care of her.