Monday, April 6, 2009


Because fate has a sense of humor, the day after I pretended that I'd found "the one", two viable adoption candidates actually appeared.

In addition to the freakish nature of their appearance (after months of searching, they cropped up within 15 minutes of each other), they also stand out as being polar opposites: one is a 6 week old puppy and the other is a much older guy, as in, he's about 8 years old.

They both have their pros and cons. The puppy is, well, a puppy, and the older guy we can't get much info about.

We went to go visit the puppy today and the situation is about the best you could hope for. The litter plus mom spent just a handful of days in the shelter and have been raised in a great foster home since then. Mama dog has a beautiful temperament, is beautifully built, and we really just wanted to take her home. She was a silly girl and did a little Paco-esque dance for us that made us smile. The whole litter is healthy and happy.

I picked up our prospect and he just looked into my eyes and wagged his tail non-stop, but in a relaxed happy way. Instead of being like, "OMG a person! A person! I'm gonna freak out!" he was more like, "Hey, you're my kind of girl." He was a cool little dude who hung out with his siblings but chose to retrieve toys over intense wrestling matches. And did I mention he is frigging adorable?


I think the rescue, Butte Humane, was stoked not to have slacker college students applying and they're sold on us (Chico has historically been voted one of the top party schools in the U.S. and consumes 1% of the nation's alcohol annually, so I wasn't surprised to see, "Will this animal be living in a fraternity or sorority?" within the first 5 questions on their application). They even preemptively took him off their website until we give them the final word.

But what about the old guy, you ask... good question.

I inquired about him about a month ago. I saw his pic back then and fell for him, but was informed he was a pretty big guy. Our place is small, so a dog with a nearly 70 lb frame would take up a lot of space here. I put him out of my head but kept thinking of his face every now and again.

Fast forward a month and, just a few minutes after I found the pup, a customer sent an e-mail from Seattle Craigslist listing the same dog and touting his weight loss. Seems like he should actually be around a 55 lb dog, which is perfect for us. Oh, and the rest of his bio sounds like he should fit right in.

The next day I contacted the person who runs the rescue and she gave him a glowing review and gave me the contact info for the foster mom. I arranged for my old roommate to drive down and check him out for me once we get the word, but I haven't heard from the foster home and it's been a few days.

I keep telling myself there's probably a logical explanation. They're busy. Or on vacation. Or moving. Or there was a family emergency.

But then the insecure part of chimes in and my imagination starts to run wild... maybe she's decided to keep him. Maybe she dug up info on me and decided I wouldn't be a good home. Maybe she hates me.

The more I think about it the more I feel like an obsessive stalker. If someone told me they saw a picture in a personal ad, wrote an e-mail, and hadn't heard back for two days I'd tell them to take a chill pill. But then I go and do the opposite. I check the e-mail compulsively, scrutinize the photographs for any signs of my fears.

Is it rational? No, but in the world of emotionally based decisions loosely framed around lifestyles and givens, someone's bound to get butt-hurt.


Anonymous said...

Tough one...there is something special about raising one's own dog from puppyhood, but there is also something about making a connection with a creature who's been around the block already. Emotional coin toss?

ana poe said...

It's more like an emotional twelve-sided die.