I fell in love with Bonnie on the day we met.  She’s a leggy thing, Miss Bonnie. Full of youthful energy, which is rejuvenating for an old fart like me. She has short hair, in two colors, but she makes it work.  And that face. She’s a classic beauty, that Bonnie.  For those of you who have my wife’s cell phone on speed dial and are about to ring her up asking why I’m writing about another girl in my life, stop. It’s OK. Erin knows about Miss Bonnie. And she loves her, too.  No, we’re not in a throuple.   Bonnie, as you might have surmised, is our new puppy.  Back in June, I wrote about the heartache of losing our longtime dog, Blue. I loved that dog, and I wrote about how, when we originally got him in 2012, I wasn’t quite “ready” for a new dog after our previous dog died.  By the time we met Bonnie, though, I was ready. For about three months after Blue died, we were a house without a dog, and we had not been dog-less since December 1989. How many years is that? Oh, quite a few.  From about 1990 until a few years ago, we were pretty much always a two-dog household. I stole humor columnist Dave Barry’s line: We always had a Primary Dog and a Backup Dog.   For most of the past decade, Blue, a 40-pound Aussie shepherd, was our Primary Dog. He wore the role with pride.  Ruby, who put the shi- in shih tzu, was our Backup Dog. She had a crusty disposition, but she was a good lap dog, well-suited for the auxiliary role.   After Ruby died, we held off on getting a new Backup Dog because Blue was getting old and we didn’t want to stress him out. So we were a one-dog house for a couple years, until Blue died, and then there were none, for a few months.  It was eerie, coming home and not being greeted by a pup who was glad to see me.  Fast forward to the day we met Bonnie.   Erin and I concluded we were ready. We have always adopted dogs who needed adopting, whether from a private shelter, or from someone who could no longer properly care for a dog, or from the county shelter system.   We decided to go to a county shelter, and we ventured out to Lancaster because Erin’s friend Crystal had gone and vetted the puppy population there, and they had a lot of prospects that looked like they could be a good fit for us.  Alas, we could not adopt them all. And that’s the heartbreaking thing about going to a county shelter. It’s hard, because you want them all to end up in a loving home. But there are so many.  We found Bonnie, though – Erin spotted her first, actually – and there was an instant connection once the shelter attendant brought this 7-month-old puppy out of the kennel to meet us. She had been an owner surrender, and later the vet would say it appeared she had experienced an early pregnancy. My best guess is that a breeder had dropped her off. We will never know her real back story, but the smart money says it would make you mad.  We adopted her, and named her Bonnie, after a character in “Letterkenny,” a Canadian TV show that we had binge-watched with my sister Lori.   Bonnie, still full of puppy energy, is a mystery breed. We did one of those mail-in DNA test kits, but the results were inconclusive. She’s probably some kind of terrier-shepherd mix. Initially I thought she was what they call a whippie-collie – a mix of whippet and border collie.   She’s got the hops to back it up.  Our girl can jump. One day, Erin heard a commotion in the dining room and went out there to find Bonnie standing on the dining room table, looking at Erin as if to say, “What?”  Bonnie bonded with Erin pretty much instantly – like, on the drive home from the Lancaster shelter. I drove, and Bonnie curled up in Erin’s lap, rolling up those long legs under her like a Transformer and turning herself into a little ball of puppy, seeming to know that, wherever it was, she was going home.  Erin and Bonnie continued to bond in the weeks that followed. Erin has done most of the heavy lifting of training our new pup, who’s wicked smart. Erin often works at home, so Bonnie sits by Erin’s side on those days and looks forward to their walks in the neighborhood after work.   Deep down, I knew from the beginning that, in this relationship, for Bonnie, Erin was No. 1.  A few weeks ago, though, Erin had a scheduled trip out of town. So, for one weekend, it was just me and Bonnie.  Quality time.  We definitely made the most of it. Neither one of us cleaned up after ourselves for a few days, and we both ate more junk food than we should have. For those few days, Bonnie was my Velcro dog – constantly stuck by my side.  I ate it up. I could tell Bonnie missed Erin, but it was a nice time for me and our new puppy to bond. She is the sweetest little thing ever.  When Erin returned, you couldn’t contain Bonnie’s excitement. I saw it coming, of course. Over the next few days, Bonnie’s focus was on one person and one person only. And it wasn’t me.  That’s not how throuples are supposed to work.   But I was OK with it because I know how much my wife just loves this dog. And it’s mutual, which makes me smile just thinking about it.  Still. I have a selfish side, you know.  One night a couple weeks ago, when I got home from work, Erin was on the phone with Brooke, our daughter who lives in Dallas along with our son, Luc.   I opened the front door. Bonnie, who usually greets me at the door con mucho gusto, gave me a sort of dog nod as if to say, “Hey, I see you’re home. But I’m a little busy chasing imaginary squirrels over here so I’ll catch you later.”  Not gonna lie. I was a little hurt.  Later that same evening, Erin was on the phone with Luc, and she had him on speaker. We told the story of my chilly greeting from Bonnie and how she has paid a lot less attention to me since Erin got back home.   “Dad,” Luc said, “that’s just because you’re the Backup Human.”  Well. That’s come back home to roost on me now, hasn’t it?   I’m the Backup Human.  Oh.   Tim Whyte is the editor of The Signal. The post Tim Whyte | I’m Glad to Be Bonnie’s Backup appeared first on Santa Clarita Valley Signal.