Happiness is spontaneous Sunday roses from someone who loves you.

Ms. Lucia de Poocini (aka Lucy) failed the editing test, but we’ve hired her at MAD about Words anyway. She’s found her true calling as Senior VP in charge of employee morale.

Meet my new buddy.

I have been mooning over rescue dogs on the Internet for months now, and adopted one last week. She’s a Wheaten Terrier mix (mixed with what, we don’t know) and is as sweet and gentle as can be. She’s shaved because her shaggy fur had been allowed to mat, but it will grow long, soft, and silky like the fur on her ears.

Not much about her history is known. I am told she is 2, but she seems younger, puppyish. (Although Wheatens are described as life-long puppies.) She seems to be a neglect case. She’s love starved. (My soul twin.) Her collar was surgically removed, because it had become embedded in her neck, she is underweight, and she is like velcro with me, following me around the house, sleeping by my bed, wanting to get on my lap (she’s big), and generally acting adorable. If I leave the room, she won’t even finish the food in her dish so she can stay attached to me.

She doesn’t seem to have much experience walking on a lead, so our walks together  have been challenging.  First day she almost tore my arm off chasing squirrels. I had a consult with a trainer and have been working with the doggie, and she’s already doing much better (except when a squirrel happens by — never knew there were so many squirrels in the neighborhood). She’s good in the house, leaves the shoes alone, and only plays with the toys, playful but respectful.

It was time to mess up my very safe, predictable life. Doing it by adding joy this time, not by suffering mishap. Good plan.

Her name is Lucy.

Happy, happy. Joy, joy.