A Golden Adventure: Finding Eli

It was my nephew Brad’s first birthday party. Standing in the kitchen of my sister’s house, we were talking about pets. Mom knew she had just heard the death knell of my marriage when Tom told me, “You will NEVER have a dog.” The look on my blank face showed that this was not connecting with me or my reality. He was drawing a line in the sand, and I was not intimidated, not cowed by his threat.

A couple of months later, the marriage counselor told us that it was time to stop “dating” and playing at divorce. We should separate and see what that felt like. We took off our wedding rings, and Tom took his stuff and moved into an apartment somewhere near Milwaukee. It was a Thursday. I was unofficially divorced.

On Friday, I went to Mom and Dad’s house and almost immediately upon entering, excitedly announced that I was getting a dog.

Mom asked, “What kind?”

“A chocolate lab.” I just knew that they were the right size, easily trainable, and would be a great running buddy.

Mom walked over to the kitchen counter and picked up the Daily Citizen. The classified section always had dogs for sale. “Have you ever thought about a golden retriever?” Mom asked. “You know, old, shorter-haired dogs sometimes get those bumps, polyps. Longer hair would cover that up.”

A litter of golden retriever pups was available just outside of Beaver Dam. I called the number and asked about the litter. They had three females and several males. I said I would be there around 10:00 the next day.

I went to pick Mom up, and Grandma Doris was there. She was always up for an adventure. She was definitely coming along. No one could tell her any different.

On the way, Mom made sure that I understood, “You know, we don’t have to take one today.”

Yeah right.

As we pulled down the driveway, a man was walking into a fenced yard. As he opened the shed door, a dozen fluffy golden puff balls fell all over themselves in excitement. Mom, Grandma, and I all let out a collective, “Aaaawwwwwwww.”

We watched them romp and play. When I said we were only interested in a female, the man corralled all the little boys into another play yard and let me be joyfully attacked by the three little girls. They ran all over me and tumbled over each other.

How do you pick “The One”?

The biggest, fluffiest was my choice. I decided in less than five minutes. Handing the man a check for $350, he asked what I was going to name her.

“Eli,” I said.

Stopping with her hand on the car door handle, Mom was like, “Whaaaaat?”

So I explained, “You see, when most women go through tough times, they resort to chocolate for comfort. Well, my favorite comfort food is cheesecake. And the best cheesecake comes from a restaurant called Eli’s. And her fur is the same exact color as the graham cracker crust of an Eli’s cheesecake.”

 My mind was made up, and there was no looking back. She was the best decision I ever made.

From that moment on, she filled my life with joy, companionship, and adventure. Eli and I went on countless runs, explored Door County trails, and shared quiet moments in the garden. She wasn’t just a dog or just a pet; she was a symbol of my newfound independence and happiness.