Michael Morse - Mr. Wilson Makes It Home: How One Little Dog Brought Us Hope, Happiness, and Closure

Copyright 2015 by Michael Morse

Foreword copyright 2015 by Cheryl Morse

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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available on file.

Cover design by Brian Peterson

Cover photo by Robert Booth

Print ISBN: 978-1-62914-573-0

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-63220-055-6

Printed in the United States of America

CONTENTS

For Cheri Tripp

Thank you for rescuing Mr. Wilson and making our lives richer. Arkansas may be hundreds of miles away from Rhode Island, but with Mr. Wilson between us, we will always be close.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

T o my friend and mentor, Jon Ford; the people who brought Mr. Wilson homeJeff and Kelly OBrien and everybody at Alpha Dog Transport; the team at Friends of Homeless Animals, RI; Ann Moan Martini, who gave me my first writing assignments; and my editor at Skyhorse Publishing, Nicole Frail. Thank you all!

FOREWORD

S everal birthdays had come and gone. There was always a card from Michael, and inside a small handwritten note with soulful words expressing that indeed love was still there and always would be. And really, it was. Most times there was nothing much from me. Michael always came through with a gift; maybe from a small unusual gift store he passed on a rescue run in Providence. I usually failed when it came to that. Everyone knew it was hard for me to get around, so no one questioned it.

Ive often wondered if I used my decreased mobility as an excuse to remain detached. I hope not. Internet shopping was an option that I usually ignored. Im sad about that when I think of it now but this year I felt different, and I think Michael did too. Many things had changed during his twenty-two-year career as a Rescue Lieutenant and then Rescue Captain in a busy city fire department in Providence, Rhode Island. He often worked seventy-two-hour weeks for us. It all came to an end after years of straining his back from heavy lifting and various other things that came with such a job.

Getting to know each other again and finding a comfort level with who we were now was a challenge, but things were becoming more comfortable. I wanted his upcoming birthday to be special. I wanted him to know that I was aware of the losses he (we) had experienced throughout the past few years. It was time to close some old wounds.

Leaving our big, yellow cape-style home, which we both loved and had spent many years turning into what we thought looked like a country cottage, was more emotional than we had anticipated. We furnished much of it with pieces and things from old consignment shops; the kind that sells so-called diamonds in the rough.

Peoples memories were for sale, sometimes heaped in the back of an old barn. Often we would find a part of a lamp, or a table missing a drawer, or just simply a drawer, and buy it. Michael would laugh at the mish-mash I thought was worthy of carting home. Many things we picked up had most likely been placed on the side of the road, intended for the dump, but by the end our efforts, they often would be reborn or remade into a memory that became part of our life in that home.

Leaving our neighbors Bob and Tara was difficult; the gate that connected our backyards had brought us together often rather than keeping each other out. Monday was card game night and having the gate made carting snacks that much easier. Our pool was always open to their family. Michael had few close friends, due to his schedule I guess, but Michael and Bob had grown to be best friends, always ready to help each other out. Tara and I were house-proud; we always exchanged recipes and had reached a comfort level I dont often experience with others. Card night was entertaining; not too much card-playing, but always lots to eat, some wine, and the conversations about the kids, whose activities provided us with endless stories. Our kids were high school and college age, theirs elementary, junior high and high school, so our stories gave them something to look forward to, you might say.

The move also affected our two big old dogs, who were uprooted from the only home they had ever known. We always thought they would be put to rest at that home, but because of difficulty going up and down stairs, it became apparent that a one-level house was a wise choice. We thought we could transform our next house into a place that felt like home, like we did with the yellow one. But two houses with a rental in-between were far from what we had envisioned. The dogs were put to sleep a short time after we moved into the second home. I always felt adjustment of the moves took a toll on their tired old bones. Ive always felt guilty about uprooting them and us.

Being responsible for another dog wasnt something I wanted to take on again or thought I could, but life is not all about me. This time it was about taking a chance and putting a little skip in my husbands walk, and I mean that both literally and figuratively. Walking was part of a health routine advised by his physician. I knew walking itself was fairly boring, but walking alone was more so, especially when he spent twelve years walking two huge dogs who brought attention wherever they went. That is what he had lost some four years ago, his walking buddies, his pals. Thats the one thing about petswe usually outlive them.

So on a peaceful Saturday morning, I sat in front of my computer searching for the one thing I never planned on having again, a dog. Not a big dog, not a hairy dog, and not a yappy one. I am the kind of person who decides to do something, digs in, and gets it done. I started with Pet Finder. A zip code or state is all you need, and it will show you all the available dogs in your area. Page after page, I looked and bookmarked all the dogs I thought would suit us. I was nervous the whole time that this could be a big mistake. Michael is a six-foot-three gentle giant who never yells and usually gives in to whatever the girls or I want. From what Id read, I knew that taking the alpha position with dogs would be important, and I wondered if he was up to the task, but I had a good feeling about this. I wanted this for him, for us.

When you have lost the ability to run and open the door and let the pup out, or navigate quickly to avoid the mishaps of a pup, you really have to think about who will ultimately take charge. Later that day, when we both had down time, I called him in to show him my search results and get a feel for how he felt about my birthday gift to him. At first Im sure he thought it was a fun idea, but that I never would really go through with it. He looked interested but hesitant. He went along, anyway. I already knew which little fellow I thought we should look into adopting, but it was his birthday, after all. We looked at the computer screen and he pointed out a couple he liked, but the dog bookmarked number one ultimately got his okay. We ended the day, went to sleep, and the next day I called the number attached to this scruffy, dirty white dog named Wilson.