So, there was a dog.
A shy and timid, doesn’t like strangers, and shows signs of aggression towards cats, puppy.
A puppy with issues in breeding (and probably full of worms), but a puppy that could be had right away.
Maybe I should go back to the beginning. My brother-in-law had a Corgi named Cassie who was diagnosed with cancer and was only given a few months to live. At the end of July they were woken up in the night by Cassie and they could tell that it would not be long. The following morning they called the vet and had to put her down. They’ve since gotten a puppy (a puppy named Bugg who is cute as a button) and the husband was just smitten.
Did you know that puppy fever is catching? I found myself agreeing that the husband could get a dog (no, really).
I agreed not really knowing this part of my husband (and after twelve years I had thought I knew him pretty well). The part that would bring home any dog with four legs and fur. The part that would agree with me to go through a reputable rescue, one with a waiting list and a very low return rate because they put in lots of work up front. The part that would fall in love with pictures and stories of dogs and become sad when they had been placed with another family (our application hasn’t even been approved yet). The part that wouldn’t really hear me when I said there’s a six months to one year wait.
Yeah, that part.
At the beginning of this I thought he could be logical about things. I tried to stand back and leave the decision up to him because I got caught up in the sad story about his childhood dog that he had to give to relatives when he was in middle school and how he really wanted a dog when we got the cats (who tolerate the rest of the family, but really love me). I agreed to consider a backyard breeder buddy of his. Bad idea, dear reader. Bad idea.
Have you ever gone to buy something from someone and the whole while got the feeling that they probably didn’t really want to give/sell it to you? That the things they’re saying are contradictory. That you really should be listening to what they aren’t saying? Go with your gut, reader.
Go with your gut.
Before I let the husband call back the rescue (so he could fix the mess he made) he had to agree to a few ground rules:
- He has to stop going to the rescue’s website to look at the pictures and read through the stories of the dogs they have available for adoption because it doesn’t matter if he thinks he wants a certain dog – that’s not the way the rescue works. They’ve been doing this a long time and have a low return rate so let’s trust them.
- He’s not allowed to look at the Humane Society’s website anymore (we agreed that we wanted to go the guided route – there’s a reason why we picked the rescue).
- He’s not allowed to shop for a dog, look at puppies, or otherwise try to find a dog elsewhere.
- If anyone tells him they have a puppy they’re selling or knows where someone else is selling puppies he’s to tell them no because his wife says no.
- He has to remember that six months to a year means six months to a year. It could, theoretically, take less time than that, but he should plan on a year.
- I get the final say because I’m the one who’s home all the time.
And I have to remember that he gets attached to dogs far too easily and that he’s not exactly logical about the whole thing. Goddess love the man, he’s super responsible and will do untold amount of research before we make any purchase (car, tv, computer, tent, camp stove, etc), but none of that comes into play when a dog is concerned.
He was getting ready to go to a ball game with his buddies from work this morning and wouldn’t you know someone mentioned that he saw a sign for puppies at Woodmans. He got a bit sheepish when he told me that. I told him that was interesting and reminded him that the rescue was coming tonight for the home visit.
Or maybe I yelled something like “YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO SHOP AROUND FOR DOGS!” I can’t remember.
Whatever the case, I share this story with you as a reminder that the most responsible and mature people can have the maturity level of my kids when it comes to pets. The logical part of their brain shuts off and all that’s left is the kid who loves dogs. It’s a powerful love, no doubt, but it’s not the one who should be making the decision.