Second Chances.

Well. What can I say. I guess I'll just lay it out as it happened.

It's been over a year now since we lost Cocoa. Her passing has been a bigger mountain to climb than I ever imagined. Her passing really decimated our emotions. Tiffany vowed to never get a dog again. I always felt that one day a dog would come into our lives. I also felt that both the girls need a dog in their childhood memories. But dogs are commitment. Dogs are work. It's not called a Dog Eat Dog Day Afternoon for nothin'.

And then last night happened. Tiffany asked me if I had seen her post about a dog at the Pasadena Humane Society that desperately needed to be adopted. That the deadline to terminate this animal was last week.

I hadn't seen that post but immediately looked it up. I was angry at myself for missing her post. She, I'm sure, was angry at herself for mentioning it to me because she knew I'd pursue it. And the kicker was, this dog was adorable. But had simply been at the pound wayee too long. Nobody wanted him.

I frantically jotted down the dog's ID number. But by this time it was 1130 at night. The pound was closed. There was no way to know if this dog was alive or dead. So I went to bed with the resolve that I was just going to let the chips land where they may. I'd call in the morning, and if by some incredible chance the pound had not, as promised, put this dog down... well then, we'd have to just go take a look.

But we were supposed to go to Disneyland today with Joyce and family. I told myself, "If it is meant to be then Joyce will cancel Disneyland." Joyce called and cancelled Disneyland.

So I called the pound. The dog was still alive. But the woman on the phone impressed upon me they were just desperate to find a home for the dog. The dog needed a home, NOW.

I walked over to Tiffany. She tried to read my eyes. "He's dead?" "No." So we told the kids what was going on. I thought their eyes were about to just pop out of their heads with excitement. For months both had been campaigning for a dog or cat or something other than animals that have to live in a cage or tank.

At the pound we filled out the paperwork and while waiting for the counselor who would assess whether we'd be good candidates for the dog we walked around a little. Pounds are tough places to be. You feel for every animal. What makes it even worse is when the animals are trying to show you how friendly they are... how wonderful they would be to take home.

While we were waiting we found the pen where the dog in question was. The girls hadn't seen a picture of the dog yet but Chase instantly picked up that this was the beast in question. She looked at me and said, "This one?" I nodded. She nodded back and smiled. We said hello and then walked around some more. Then returned back to the dog. Charlie commented, "Boy, you guys really like this dog, don't you?" Chase explained that this was the dog. And it was instant love.

Everyone, I'd like to introduce our new friend, family member, and sources of I'm sure peaks of both joy and challenge:

Frankie C. Dodge. "Frankie" is short for Frankenstein. "C" is in tribute to the original Pooch herself, Cocoa. "Dodge" is, as most of you could guess if you have known us for awhile, our last name.

While processing Frankie's release, we learned that he's had a tough life up until this point. In January he was brought in with severe wounds from a vicious attack by another dog that needed surgery. After his owners took him home, they returned a week later to give him up. Apparently, the family was losing their home and couldn't keep him. He's been in the pound since January and was scheduled to be put down. But even through all that, Frankie is a sweet, tail-wagging goofball. He needs training, but his enthusiasm will receive it with great heart. As I write this now I still can't get over that nobody has adopted him until us.

I must confess at this point, Ladies and Gentlemen, that I had rules that needed to be met before I would ever get another dog. They were rules that I feel were established when I got Cocoa.

1. Circumstance presents the animal to us. We don't seek the animal. (Just like how we meet most of anyone we love.)

2. The animal is not a purebred.

3. The animal's life most likely depends on whether or not we adopt it.

Well, Frankie qualified to these three requirements 180%. The one uncanny similarity, if you ask me, with Cocoa is that Frankie was listed as a Pit Mix. I think this might have had something to do with why he never got adopted. People who don't want a Pit Bull don't even want a mix, and people who do want a Pit Bull want one that's pure bred. Cocoa was a Chow Mix and whenever anyone realized that it was instant bias and sometimes unfounded fear. The way I see it, every day from this point on that Frankie "is" should be considered pure gravy.

Frankie was a "volunteer favorite" as it was presented to us at the pound. And that was proven as every worker and volunteer in the joint came in and lit up with relief and joy when they realized that we were taking Frankie home. One volunteer even started to tear up.

And I thought that just might be the case with every animal... but I saw another one being processed with just a "greeeat...thanks." But with Frankie it was a practically a grand send-off. I just got the sense that everyone there loved Frankie and were completely stressed knowing that his time was about to run out.

In addition, we didn't have to pay for anything with Frankie. The usual 120 dollar fee for chipping and other costs were covered. The counselor applied a donation made by another person to Frankie's release.

So now we start a new journey together. One that will be admittedly rife with work for us all. But one that is no less exciting because of it. Poor Frankie. He's going to be on youtube frequently.