The new kid in town

Published 8:39 pm Thursday, November 5, 2026

By Gwen Rockwood / Contributing Columnist

Our empty nest has a new baby in it. And that baby is a 60-pound dog named Theo.

Here’s what led up to it: In mid-October, our 22-year-old son, Jack, packed half his stuff in a compact SUV and drove for two days to North Carolina, where his girlfriend is finishing her college degree. He’d spent the previous four years in college in Michigan, which meant we only saw him for holidays and the occasional spring break. So we were thrilled when he said he’d move home to live with us after graduation while he worked remotely. He saved money on rent, and we soaked up some of the time we’d missed while he was away.

After five months, he decided to relocate to North Carolina to be with his girlfriend. So I helped him fold clothes and pack boxes. I bought him mixing bowls. I made sure he had over-the-counter medicines and snacks for the road trip. Then one morning he drove away, and that familiar my-baby-has-left-me-grief came rushing back in to fill the void.

Tom and I were empty nesters before Jack moved home, and we’ve made it through all three of our adult kids leaving. So I knew we’d get used to it again, and the sadness would lift. But then Tom went on a week-long business trip just a few days after Jack moved, and suddenly I realized how loud a clock’s ticking sounds when you’re the only one home.

A day later, Tom texted me a link to a Facebook post written by a woman who fosters rescued dogs. She showed a before photo of a dog covered in thick, matted hair infested with fleas, followed by an after photo of the same dog washed and shaved to the skin, except for the white, wavy hair on his scruffy face. His big dark eyes stared straight into me, and I was a goner. Tom had laid a doodle trap, and I walked right into it.

So, even though plenty of scams involve rehomed dogs on Facebook, I took a chance on this one and sent a message. I knew the red flags to watch for. An hour later, the woman replied with questions about our experience with doodle mixes, who need an indoor home and regular grooming. She asked if we had a vet. She wanted to know how much time and love we could offer. Just as I was cautious about her, she was wary of me, too. She needed to know this dog wouldn’t once again get stuffed into a crate that was too small and stored outside like a toy that had lost its novelty.

After we traded several messages, she invited us to meet Theo in person later that week. We drove three hours on a Sunday to get there, and we packed a bag of diced-up bologna, which is a surefire way to get a dog’s attention. After half an hour of getting to know her and Theo, he adopted us, and we all drove home.

I knew this change wouldn’t be easy. He wasn’t fully house-trained and would need a diaper while he learned the house rules. He’d been through hard times and was rightly scared. He needed time to know he could trust us.

Four days after the adoption, we were scheduled to drive the rest of Jack’s belongings to his new apartment in North Carolina. But I couldn’t leave an anxious dog with a kennel or a sitter, so we took him with us on a six-day journey across multiple states, towing a U-Haul trailer. It was ridiculous, difficult, and stressful, but unconditional love is rarely convenient.

So far, Theo has learned to walk upstairs on his long, thin legs, and he has discovered the pure ecstasy of grilled chicken and chunks of cheddar cheese. He sleeps on his back with his front legs stretched up toward the sky. A dog trainer helps us teach him to be an indoor dog with good manners and to get along with our Corgi, who is slowly accepting him with disgruntled prejudice. Progress is slow but sure.

And through it all, we’re remembering how lovely it is to be needed once again for food, safety, and belly rubs. We get paid back tenfold with long, adoring stares and doggie kisses. The empty nest still has plenty of room for new love. I highly recommend it.

Gwen Rockwood is a syndicated freelance columnist. Email her at gwenrockwood5@gmail.com. Her books are available on Amazon.