Over the next few weeks, I learned a lot about Sadie – I even told my mom I thought I knew everything about her about a month into living with her. I knew she LOVED giving “Sadie kisses” to people, but used not dogs. She detested other dogs. The kisses were bites with dogs – even my mom’s dog, Mr. Bobo, another adopted cocker spaniel from the Humane Society I adored – Mr. Bobo and I met while I was in college and we had our own really special relationship of our own. When Sadie bit Mr. Bobo, I sent her to my room for two hours! I was mad. But I digress! I also knew she loved chasing anything that moved outside – except cars – but motorcycles and trucks she loved chasing, along with any kind animal - and absolutely refused to go outside when it was raining. She knew how to give high fives and I taught her how to shake and roll over. I knew if she slept near my head, she was feeling insecure – by my feet, she was fine. That covers the basics, right? Apparently not.

I was dead asleep. I remember sensing shaking – I groaned; I was just having an earthquake dream again.

But, something was staring at me.

Terrified, I slowly opened my eyes.

It was not – human; the nose and the tongue were disproportionately long.

I’d been so terrified that I couldn’t move – well, except for my larynx – which let out a long, gut-wrenching scream.

And then it was gone.

I sat up in bed … and felt a warm, wet sensation at my feet.

Then the bed started to shake again.

It was 2002. Anyone in Athens remembers the day – the earthquake shook Georgia in the wee hours of the morning – the first strong one since the 1800s – and the epicenter was in Chicago, I think, or maybe Tennessee – I don’t remember - but it set off car alarms all around Athens, waking up what seemed to be the entire town.

It was the first morning I had Sadie.

Suddenly, my mood changed. It was the doggie I’d drawn obsessively when I was a kid. I’d found her in Athens’ “Critter” magazine, which is dedicated to homeless dogs up for adoption. Every time I’d come to Athens, I’d grab one. The magazine always made me sad - but I could always dream - I wanted to take every dog home listed in the magazine. When I’d seen Sadie a couple of weeks before graduation, I said, “That’s MY dog. MYYYY dog.” I just knew it. She was a Cocker Spaniel with a freckled blonde and white face and paws, the most beautiful brown eyes I’d ever seen and a little cropped tail that never stopped wagging.

I hugged her all night while Adam, my mom and my grandmother brought everything in. As for her personality, my first impression was that she was a bit hyper, but hey, I could be, too!

All we could do at this point was stare. For four years, we’d been inseparable. There were no words, just silence protruding over the white noise of the A/C of that hot May day in our quaint townhouse an eighth of a mile from campus.

Alma and I’d met at INTRO, North Georgia College & State University’s sleep over version of freshman orientation. We’d detested one another in the beginning – she was the outgoing all star soccer athlete from Dalton; I was the shy band geek from Watkinsville. We’d been in the same tour group the first day. On the drill field, I’d stepped on one of her toes. In revenge, on the tour of Dunlap Hall, she’d “accidentally” shoved me into a cracked door, forcing me to fall into a meeting of top NGCSU executives. And it continued all day until we figured out we’d be roommates all freaking week. Nice. As the week passed, though, it played out like a bad “Parent Trap” without the parents.