I have wanted a dog for a long time. Probably about 8 years or so but definitely since we moved into this house 4 years ago. I had a myriad of pets growing up and am of the belief that all children should have the experience of having at least one pet in their younger years. I think pets provide companionship and, if insisted upon by a child’s parents, a good dose of responsibility – which let’s be honest all children need to cultivate.
I had great experiences, for the most part, with animals growing up – there really is nothing like the unconditional love a pet provides. I wanted that for my daughter. Combine that with the fact that my kid is animal crazy – she loves learning about animals – she loves talking about animals – she loves reading about animals – she just loves animals. What is funny, however, is that up until about a year ago she was deathly afraid of real live animals – dogs especially. She would run screaming whenever a real live animal was anywhere near her. And, so I put my dreams of a pet for her on the back burner – there is enough trauma in this life – no need to add to her angst by forcing a dog on the poor child.
Something interesting happened about a year ago – her fear began to recede – she started to approach and even pet dogs when we would see them out and about; and she started to ask for a dog. A real live dog – a pet of her very own.
At this point, I should tell you, my husband did not have the same positive pet experiences in his past. The dogs he had, according to his telling of the stories, were second cousins to Cujo. They were crazy, flesh eating, foam at the mouth, destroy the house dogs. Any time I have ever broached the subject of maybe, some day getting a dog his answer would always be the same – dogs cost $500 a month to maintain (exaggerate much??) and dogs poop in your shoes. Every time – the same answer – for 8 years of marriage – $500 and poop in the shoes. I would explain – I don’t want a big dog – I don’t want a greyhound for goodness sake – just a 20-25 lb dog – a small to medium sized dog. An adult dog – no puppies. Just a regular old fun dog! $500 and poop in the shoes!
Today we were at a local outdoor market. The Animal Protective League had a mobile adoption unit out with animals who were available to adopt. My husband took my daughter and niece to just go look at the cats and dogs, and came back a little while later saying that there were 2 beagles that he would be ok with us looking at to adopt – both were “middle aged”, so out of the puppy phase and both seemed to really be sweet. OH MY GOODNESS!!!! What??!?!?
I basically ran to the dogs to take a look – I mean after 8 YEARS of $500 and poop in the shoes – for him to initiate even the POSSIBLITY of a dog – I ran. I took each of the dogs for a walk and they were both doll babies – so friendly and sweet and loving – but one was a little bigger than the other, so after a while we settled on the smaller, female – Breezie. Isn’t that a great name!?!
We filled out the application – talked about all the vaccinations that had been done, when the next would be due, got a leash –because I don’t HAVE a dog leash just laying around. Talked about which vets are good. What kind of food Breezie prefers. Arden was literally dancing around squealing she was so happy – I have never seen such joy on her little face.
Our application was approved and we were finishing the paper work – and then it happened. The main headquarters for the APL text the woman at the mobile unit and said that if we wanted Breezie we had to adopt both her and the other dog – Ace. You see they were from the same rescue and had to go together or not at all. The woman at the mobile unit pleaded our case to the headquarter chick – no way we could have two dogs. These dogs had already been adopted out as a pair twice before and were returned because they were just too much together – maybe it was time for a new tactic. Nothing worked. This woman, who I totally wanted to hug because she was as distraught as we were about us not getting Breezie – made tons of phone calls and sent text after text to try to get us that sweet dog. But, alas, it was not to be.
So, after over an hour of paperwork, falling in love, and being heroes to my kid – my husband and I had the great privilege of breaking the bad news. The face crumple and tears that followed were heart wrenching and pathetic. I teared up behind my sunglasses as we explained that it was probably for the best – there would be another opportunity to find a dog – we weren’t ready for one today anyway – we will go this week to the shelter to look at what other nice doggies might need a home.
Y’all it was awful! And to top it all off – I think I am taking it worse. Remember a few weeks ago when I talked about level 10 – full-out, heart-crushing, tear-inducing, drama-filled devastation…that is what I’m feeling right now. I am totally pouting.
I am telling myself that it is for the best – maybe Breezie was really Cujo’s first cousin and would have destroyed my home 10 minutes after her arrival. I am telling myself that I am a planner and we had not planned for a dog today – we weren’t ready – we would have had to run out and buy a ton of stuff that wasn’t in the budget. I am telling myself that the “no” today was just to ensure that the dog that we are supposed to have doesn’t miss out on the awesomeness of us.
But I am sad. I had my heart opened and ready to love this little orphaned doggie and I had to walk away from her. I couldn’t even tell her goodbye because I was afraid I would start blubbering like a fool.
So today was hard and disappointing and sad – BUT there is a dog in my future….maybe not today or tomorrow – but soon – and Breezie made that possible. So thanks for that, sweet dog, and I hope you find a great place with Ace!