In addition to the other insults of 2020, we lost Smooch. He was our little rescue Schnauzer. Boon companion. Sleeping buddy. Brought to us through tragedy, he gave us love and companionship with few requirements.

He died this summer. A lesion on his spine took his legs. He went quickly and with just a few hours of pain and confusion. It broke our hearts.

After a decent interval, we decided to find another dog. Not to replace Smooch, but to fill the hole in our hearts.

Karl appeared. Another rescue. Another Schnauzer. Maybe with a little hound or beagle mixed in. He weighs 36 pounds. Compared to Smooch’s 19 pounds, Karl is a load. Bigger and wider head. Bigger and wider butt. Big feet.

Unlike Smooch, who never wanted to be outside more than five minutes, Karl demands long, rambling walks in East Nashville four to five times a day. Smooch was always Ruby’s dog. He had bonded with Ruby as I filled out the paperwork to adopt him. From that first moment, he stayed by her side day and night. Karl is loving to both of us but he is, most assuredly, my dog.

I’ve always wanted a dog that sat at my feet while I worked or jumped in my lap for ear scratches. Karl is that dog. When I lie down to enjoy a football game, he snuggles between my legs and goes to sleep.

Karl also loves riding in the car. Karl Trips we call them. He bustles over into my lap and when he turns around his big butt blows the horn.

Karl cannot fill the hole in our hearts left by Smooch, but he is carving out his own place in our lives. A source of constant love and companionship. In these dire times, we could ask for nothing more.