Bringing Home Thomás

night, light, street, random


I named him Thomas.

Not Tommy or Tom.  But Thomas…with the emphasis on “mas”.

I’m sure he had a different name in his “other life”.   They always do.  When you pick out an older one like this, you had no idea what their background was.  But the place I’d come to had a good reputation, and it was time for me – for our family – to take the plunge.

He was smaller than the rest and seemed shy,

standing in the corner by himself.  Nonetheless, he was a handsome fellow.

I heard a gravelly voice behind me say: “He’s a fine one.  Maybe not the pick of the litter, but you can’t go wrong with him.”

Just then, the little white bundle turned and looked me in the eye.  His eyes were tiny, so it was hard to tell what he was looking at, truthfully.  But if you believe in intuition, I promise, I could feel his stare.

“I’ll take him!” I told the man, and plunked down my sixty bucks.  “Do I need anything special to take home?  Anything that will make the transition easier?”

“Sure, we sell all the accessories inside.  I’ll help you choose.”

It was all so easy.

I waited impatiently while they got him ready for me.  I walked around the shop, looking at all the goodies that I could take home.  Having already spent sixty bucks, I held back on the fancy add-ons.

“Ma’am?”  I turned at the voice.  “He’s ready for you.”  They’d placed him on the counter and put him in a carrier, so I really couldn’t actually see him.  It still felt right, so I thanked them and as I was walking out, the man came up behind me and pushed a piece of paper in my palm.  “If this is your first time, these instructions will help get you through it.”

I brought him home and carried him into the kitchen.  He was quite heavy for a little guy.  He only weighed 17 pounds, but it felt like more.

My husband came in, smiling.

He knew I was going to bring him home, and I think he was as excited as I was.

“Well, take him out!  Let me see him!  Is he plump?”

“He is a little butterball…feels like he weighs a ton.”  I reached into the carrier, and set him on our counter.  We both stood back, admiring him.  It was like a Chevy Chase Christmas Vacation Christmas Tree moment.  The spotlights shone down.  The angels sang.

“You did good, baby. How’d you know which one to pick?”

“We had this connection.  It’s hard to explain.  I think in reality, he picked me.  But I knew as soon as I saw him that he was the one.   I knew that this young little fluff ball belonged on our dining room table.”

“Great job”, he sobbed.  “I’m so proud of you, honey.  The new Brown Family Turkey Tradition has begun.”