The Other Female in Our Bed
How a puppy brought my husband back to me
I would rather have come home from my spa weekend and discovered my husband in bed with another woman than with a two-month-old Labrador retriever curled between his legs.
The woman would have been gone within seconds.
As for that puppy? She was here to stay.
“Don’t you just love Ziva?” my daughter asked several days later, as I sprayed yet another carpet deodorizer promising to bring “pine freshness” onto our living room carpet. “Isn’t she adorable and fun?”
I didn’t find anything adorable about chewing up every paper product in our house: coasters, napkins, books. Or anything fun about moving items with the slightest hint of wood pulp to higher altitude.
“But you have to admit, Mom, a puppy is the best thing for Dad.”
On that I had to agree with my daughter.
The previous year had been tough for my husband. After being diagnosed with a rare brain tumor (ironically more prevalent in dogs), he survived an eight-hour surgery and then received his certificate from a seven-week radiation treatment.
During that period his best friend and business partner of three decades, discovered he had liver cancer. He wasn’t so lucky.
