The Importance of being "Sparkalini"

You know...I never really think that I told the story of how Sparkey...lovingly known as Mr Sparkalini Bambini...came to be.  After all, being the namesake of my Blog, I think that's important history that needs to be documented.  So, let me take you back.  Picture it, it's late summer, 1998 and I'm temporarily living with a friend of mine, Katy Palermo (HEY KATY, SHOUT OUT GIRL) while my newly bought home is being remodeled.  So one morning I get up, get ready and head out the door to work.  At the time, I was still working at AT&T and had to go into the office everyday.  So I walk out the door and head to my car.  Since Katy lives in a condo, she only has one covered parking spot, in the back, and I used to park on the street, in the front. So I'm walking to my car and I hear this weird crying noise.  It sounds like a baby kitten trying to get it's Mother's attention to be fed.  I keep hearing it, and start looking around.  Suddenly, from the bed of the truck parked behind my car (a truck that appeared to be abandoned...I don't care what anyone says...the truck was abandoned) I see a little head popping up and down.  I walk over to the truck...remember, it's summer in TX (ie: HOT) and here is this LITTLE baby (now better known as Sparkey) all alone....no blankie, no water, no toys, no nothing!  Not only is he all alone in the bed of this awful abandoned, gross, truck...he's as thin as a rail, covered in fleas and has mites in his ears the size of capers.  Having never owned a dog in my life, I didn't really know what to do.  The only thing that I DID know, is that if I left that LITTLE baby there, in that Dallas summer heat, by the end of the day he would have been dead.  So, back into the house I went to retrieve a box and some paper towel.  I mean, the little guy was in bad shape....so bad, that I really didn't want to touch him, let alone just throw him into my car.  Back out to the truck, box in hand, I use the paper towel...pick him up...and put him in the box.  My ex had a dog, so I knew of one vet in town...Aardvark Veterinary Clinic...so off we went.  We arrive....me and dog-in-a-box...and I tell them that I have found a dog.  They all look at me....a little confused....and say, "And?"  ME: "And he needs to be attended to."  VET: "OK, but we're not the SPCA.  If you leave him here we can help him, but someone needs to come pick him up this afternoon and pay for the services rendered.  After all, he's in pretty bad shape...he's full of fleas, malnourished, probably anemic and from the looks of him, not long for this world if something is not done"  Wow.  OK.  It's not like I was going to take him to the SPCA so that they could take one look at him and send him to the gas chamber...So I said, "Fine. Take care of him and I will be back to pay and pick him up this afternoon!"  VET:  "...and what's the dogs name?"  ME:  "Really?  I just found him...I don't think he has a name."  VET: "We can't accept a new patient without a name."  ME:  "Fine."  Looking at him...SO cute, little, black and white, he kinda looked like a FireHouse dog, so I said, "Sparkey...his name is Sparkey."  Finally on my way to work, I start to think..."What the HELL am I going to do with a dog?  I have never had a dog and DON'T want a dog."  My first thought....call my sister.  I call Joanne, tell her the story and within an hour or so she has found a friend of a friend that wants the dog...sight unseen.  I get off work, go pick up Sparkey, pay for the services rendered and deliver to the guy that's agreed to take the dog.  I go home...to Katy's house and she and I start to talk.  ALL I can talk about is the dog.  "I wonder how Sparkey's doing."  "I wonder what he thinks about his new owner and home."  "I wonder what he's doing right now."  And on and on and on and on...it went on all night.  I hardly slept a wink.  Finally, morning comes and I call the guy that I gave the dog to....to get all the answers to the questions I had.  First, he tells me that he named the dog after me.  WHAAA?  Next, he tells me that his landlord found out that he brought home a dog and reminded him that there are NO PETS allowed and that he has found ANOTHER owner for...well, what he is now calling Andrew.  I told him ABSOLUTELY NOT...I want the dog back!  He agrees.  I take the remainder of the day off and go pick up SPARKEY!!!!           R E U N I T E D 'cause it feels so good.  R E U N I T E D 'cause we understood...  well you get the picture....it was the BEST DAY OF MY LIFE.  Since then...it's history.  13 years later, Sparkey is the LOVE OF MY LIFE...sorry Jeff....but you KNOW he's my life....and there's plenty of me to go around!!!   He follows me around and always accepts me as I am.  Never gets mad at me, never disagrees with me...it's an all 'round love fest.  NOW, to set the record straight....there has been some talk over the years that this dog belonged to someone and that I kidnapped him.  To those people I say, "Whatever."  If someone leaves a dog, in that bad a shape, in the bed of an abandoned pick up truck (I will die saying it was abandoned), well then they do not deserve to have a dog.  END OF DISCUSSION.  And to that I say...this has been the Importance of being Sparkey.  He's been there with me through thick and thin, and has never given up on me....even during times when I gave up on myself.  Thank you, GOD, for sending him to me.  This proves yet another thing....miracles still happen in this day and age, because he truly was a miracle sent from GOD.  ahhhhh