I guess I’m a few days late and some dollars short on fervently documenting adopting a rescue puppy two weeks come tomorrow. Triggered by a particularly rough morning, my Mom and I decided to go to the local shelter. I’d been there a time or two before, but for whatever reason, I wasn’t in high hopes of finding anyone to take home.
The first section of the location was nice-clean kennels, friendly dogs, but not really any that caught my attention. The second part I found two puppy/young adult dogs that caught my attention, but since this was at a county shelter, the dogs had “holds” on them and couldn’t be adopted until the holds returned and said yay or nay.
Disheartened by the foul stench of many of the kennels I traipsed through to find these two dogs, coupled with a slight tingle of fear by the countless pitbulls that rattled their cages for attention, I was in no mood to continue my hapless search.
On a whim, my Mom and I decided to drive a bit further north to another shelter we knew of. If all else failed, I knew that there was a tasty bakery nearby that we could eat my depression away at. I checked the shelter’s website for available dogs, and the ones listed were okay looking, but nothing as adorable as the two I’d previously seen earlier that day.
I half-heartedly signed my name in (as it was policy in the event I actually wanted to adopt, as this place did same day adoptions) and meandered outside to the kennels. It was hot and I didn’t really feel like going on a search around the property to look at the available dogs. However, within minutes I found a cute black and white chihuahua mix that eagerly approached me. Okay, maybe this wasn’t going to be for nothing.
Then, as I turned a corner, I saw a set of young dogs that seemed playful and much more handsome than their pictures online had led me to believe. I quickly returned inside to ask to meet the three dogs. The first one, the tiny chihuahua was nice, but she was more intent on chewing on my purse when I set it on the floor than she was with meeting me. ONTO THE NEXT ONES.
Then I met the brothers, one of which was much more eager to meet me than the other. The playful one, Spruce, immediately came up to me when I tapped my legs and laid a nice, wet kiss on my cheek. You could say it was love at first lick, as this was the dog I ended up taking home that afternoon.
Unbeknownst to me, this puppy was fully potty-trained and had the sweetest demeanor I’d ever interacted with. Two weeks in, and we’re now starting to look at programs to get him trained to be a service dog for my PTSD. I know, stomach problems aside, having a life-long psych condition is really fun (totally joking, it’s actually quite taxing, because it’s not like a disability people can see you struggle with).
Anywhoo, as I sit here typing this, my little creature/fur child/new best friend is asleep by my side. I’m excited for what the future holds for us and I’ve noticed that I’ve become much more positive about making progress with my GI issues in order to return back to law school.
I guess there must be a higher power at play, because I really wasn’t anticipating to go home with a dog that Tuesday…but I did, and as my Mom put it, “she couldn’t have picked out a better, more kind creature than him, even if she tried.”
So from the sleeping pup in training and myself, until soon.
Spoonie Adventures in Books, Beauty, & Bullshit
I'm a 25 year old law and business student living with a chronic health condition. Follow along on my shenanigans.