So Thursday night, when I probably should have been doing something else, I stumbled across my dog online. At least, I think he’s my dog. Pretty sure. We haven’t met yet, but there’s something in my gut that calls out to him in a way that it hasn’t, to anyone else.
I tried not to think about it. I’ve been sternly advised by several people not to get a German Shepherd, because they’re too challenging for a first-time dog owner. He’s a German Shepherd-Lab mix. I’ve been looking for an adult, because I know that puppies can be a handful. The chewing they do alone has had me feeling very sensible. He’s 7 months old. Plus, he’s recovering from surgery that will have one hind leg permanently shorter than the others. He has a history of undernourishment that led to injury, surgery, and lifelong consequences within the first couple of months of his life. This is not a practical choice!
But then, it was never going to be a fully practical choice.
I held out contacting the rescue for several hours and tried to get someone to talk me out of it. I even sent his picture to my mother, the original “why do you want to complicate your life?” lady and the one who gave away my last high maintenance shepherd mix apparently without a second thought. Aside from the possibility for coyote attack (which is her own particular brand of obsession— I never should have taken her to that workshop about coyotes a couple of years ago), the best she could do was “he is kinda cute…” (an understatement if I’ve ever heard one. He’s pretty much the cutest thing ever.)
I knew once I contacted the rescue lady and found out he was still available, my heart would be set on him. And it is. I’ve just bought an orthopedic bed, a waterproof cover for my backseat, and a feeder/food storage thing. I’ve browsed interactive toys and baby gates, discussed the merits of different kinds of food with my friend who’s as obsessive about this as I am (in fact, most days, she’s a little more obsessed than I am, but today, I’m the one waiting to hear back about the dog, so I’m winning. Three weeks ago, when it was her, she totally had me beat.) I haven’t heard back from the application I returned. We haven’t had the visit. The truth is that I’m fresh off a huge business trip and need to take another trip out of town to meet the new arrival before he should come to stay. But no. I’m sitting here calculating the reasons the rescue lady hasn’t responded to my application (a sane response might be “she doesn’t work weekends” or “this might not be the only/most important thing she has to do,” but I’m obsessively refreshing my email, over the annoying sound of my rational mind) and getting entirely obsessive. And not in a constructive way. I told myself to spend today cleaning and puppy-proofing, because the initial visit will be in my house, and there’s plenty to do to get ready. But the most constructive thing I could manage was this blog post.
If you want to tell me any. blessed. thing. about a dog (stories of dogs from your life, advice, recommendations of pet products), I’d love to chat about it. Apparently it’s what I can manage, today.