Dog Brings Adopted Family Together

by Rubin Carson and Marilynn Record

It was a week before Thanksgiving when "RRRRing!!" "I understand you're looking to adopt," said the voice on the other end. He was a family lawyer and continued. "I have a client who's in her seventh month. She wants to interview six couples interested in adoption. Someone recommended you for a home visit." My answer, "YEOWW ! " We set the time and date for a home visit. I told my wife. Her response? YEOWW!"

Thanksgiving Eve and in walked a beautiful, dark haired, and much pregnant woman accompanied by the lawyer. She was around 25 and the lawyer was middle-aged and faded into the wallpaper. Introductions were made but they could barely be heard. Gerard, our six-month-old Basset Hound was howling and barking. Have you ever listened to a Basset Hound who had never been locked out of the house before?

A fly on the wall could have mistaken the event as some real estate agent trying to make a sale. First, we showed the birth mother the baby's room, which we had fixed up long ago. It looked something like Marie Antoinette's bedchamber. Next came the dining room which had the table set for a Fall color Thanksgiving feast. (We always went to my wife's parents for holidays but we figured this would be a nice touch). Needless to say, the longer we toured, the louder Gerard's howling became. "Where's the backyard?," said the lawyer, referring to some check list in his brain. "That's where we keep Gerard," lied my wife. "We want to train him to stay outside when the baby comes." "Oh, let him come in," said Birth Mother (she never revealed her name). "I love dogs."

Gerard was scratching at the sliding glass door as I opened it. Piddling with excitement, Gerard dashed into the room and pounced on the visitors. Then he ran around the room a few times and pounced again. This time Birth Mother grabbed him, sat down, and started stroking his long velvet ears. He spent the next ten minutes snoring on her lap.

Thanks to Gerard's sales skills, we welcomed little Julie to our home. The next month was pure hell. By law, Birth Mother could take her baby back. Every parking car, knock on the door, or phone ring meant she was coming to claim our beloved child.

About a month later, we received a letter from Birth Mother. She promised we'd never hear from her again but asked if she could she have a photo of her baby as a keepsake. We sent her one sitting next to Gerard. Naturally, he stole the show.

Fast forward to the present. "This is my daughter Julie and my grandson Mathew. Don't we look alike?" "Uhmmm. Sure do," says an acquaintance.

We are at Art's Deli in Studio City. I don't glance at Julie giving me her 'there he goes again' frown while Mathew rolls his eyes as our acquaintance walks away. I adopted Julie 45 years ago. When Julie married, she adopted Mathew who is now age 9. We look like we come from different planets but I enjoy flummoxing strangers.