It took me a moment to register the sweetness and thought that went into this gift yesterday during this very dark time, which was not just of a random stuffed animal.

I was visited by my amazing friend, with a hot tub I will have to indulge in this year since mine is inaccessible, Peter Herman. He and Jack Morris got me a SNOOPY to go with my Snoopy, after I told him that my grandfather was a huge Peanuts fan and had so named his dog (the one I remember him having when I was growing up).

My Snoopy reminded me of that family animal from the 1970s, so that name stuck when he came to us after being found on the streets just walking up to someone’s doorstep trying to meet the large dogs inside. I really didn’t like my dear Snoopy at first because he was an escape artist. However, I thought he was unadoptably old because of his white whiskers. It turned out he was a young adult, but with a tail that constantly wags. By the time it was determined he was not a senior (I should have known better to check the gums), I could not imagine this dog being placed elsewhere, even though I really try to only permanently home seniors. I fell so in love with his eyes while he stands there daily and melts me with the tail wag. Hence the foster “failed.” I’m glad that my miracle survivor is also named in homage to grandpa and his beloved pet.

I will cherish this gift and it will serve as a reminder that I have to get my butt to the Charles Schultz Museum in Santa Rosa.