And the beat goes on...

Okay Y'all.

The whole story you ask? Why not, I say.

Twice to ohio, twice to Western PA Humane League, once to Animal Friends, three times to Animal Rescue Society all in one week and we still hadn't found our dog. I was discouraged to say the very least.

Then Greg decided he wanted to plan a long winded trip out to Ohio for Saturday to visit at least 4 different shelters including Angels for Animals and Alchemy Acres Animal Sanctuary. He asked me to look at different dogs in that Ohio Area, so I looked it up.

It just so happens that there's a dog pound right in that area that is extremely high kill. And they euthanize with a heart stick. I don't know what that is (And for your information I don't want to know), but people are outraged by it. Unfortunately, who was at the top of their list of dogs? A Nova Scotia Duck Tolling Retriever mix. He was beautiful. A bit bigger than we wanted, but he looked sweet and definitely worth the drive to meet him. That's where the good bit ends. He was scheduled to be euthanized the next day, in the morning. They were only open till 4:30 p.m. They were located 1.5 hours away. It was already noon. We couldn't drop everything and go. It completely broke my heart and I may or may not have yelled at Greg for making me the one to look up all the dogs.

We could have driven out to Ohio as quick as we could to meet him, but it wouldn't have guaranteed that he would be ours. It WOULD have guaranteed that I would have been emotional with a self-imposed obligation to rescue him without verifying completely that he was good for us.

You know. I'm typing... and the words... they aren't enough. I feel awful. I feel like this was a personal failing. I failed that dog. I found him. He was (partly) the breed that Greg has been crazy about... and I could save him. It's soul rending.

Then we were contacted by that rescue that had rejected us - remember them? They read my response to their questions and basically said "OH! Well that's a horse of a different color! Come on in!" They took back their moratorium on meeting their dogs, and in fact insisted on setting up a meeting with the very one they'd told us was all wrong for us.

He's being fostered with a woman who lives forty-five minutes away from us. Brilliant.

Wednesday finally comes around and we decided to go to a shelter we've not yet been to that is also 45 minutes away. The major problem with this is that despite the confidence we have in our GPS to get us pretty much anywhere in the world... It kind of needs an address. And this Humane Society's address didn't have a number on a street - it had "Behind Lynch Field".

The GPS, unfortunately, doesn't take directions like that.

Luckily, we knew the general direction and I thought I'd printed out sufficient Google directions. Ah google maps. Love them. On our way, I told Greg I'd had a funny stomach feeling all day that made me somehow believe today would be different. I had looked up the nearest Petco just in case as well as making sure there were towels in the back seat. The good-funny feeling may have continued, however, we couldn't find the stupid road our Google Map directions told us to turn on. Then Greg suggested that we were doing it completely wrong, so I started freaking out and then we drove past a nondescript street and Greg was like, "Oh... That was it". Only we were on the side of a highway-like road and couldn't make a U-Turn of Google Map Shame.

For reasons I can't understand, Greg decided it was still the wrong way, and we turned around but didn't go down the road Google Maps was directing us towards. I had also printed out directions to the shelter from the shelter's site. Here is an excerpt - I'm not even kidding:

"After you cross Main Street get in your left hand lane. Route 119N will take a left turn by a White Stereo Shop. It is marked overhead."

Yea. I Demanded we stop for directions, so we pulled over at a little video store and Greg went in. The very pretty blonde girl gave him extremely animated directions for about 10 minutes. Greg came back out with a bemused expression on his face and his directions written down. I asked him if he'd gotten his "flirt on". He scowled at me. What can I say? We're in love.

We followed 119N, which, let me tell you - is not easy. It's almost like 119N does NOT want to be driven upon. It wants you to think you should keep going straight to stay on the road that you are on when in fact Route 119N has adapted to include full right and left hand turns at traffic lights to confuse the average driver. Alone, we may have been deterred, but together we persevered.

Finally we arrived and although I made Greg "JUST PARK!" mistakenly about a mile away from the facility, he forgave me.

We went in and almost immediately saw this guy:

(Their picture, not mine)

He and his brother had been turned into the shelter by someone who had been living in an apartment that didn't allow pets. They were both 9 months old when the landlord found out and made the people turn the dogs into the humane society or move out. Luke was rambunctious to say the very least. He was jumping and leaping and barking and jumping and barking and leaping. Owen - the one pictured above - was at the front of the cage door, wagging his tale and sniffing at us. He was listed as a Spaniel mix, but we think he's much more of a mutt than that - more Spaniel meets Collie meets Australian Shepherd meets a Beagle. We looked at the other dogs, but almost immediately asked to meet him. This particular humane society didn't have a room to take us to to meet the dog alone, so we went to the front office area where people kept coming in and out and in and out. There was a cat, however I'm not sure if he wasn't interested or if he just didn't see here - but there was no reaction. He was sweet enough and he didn't bark. They wouldn't let us take him for a walk.

When we asked about another room, the woman perked up and said... uh... okay, in here. And took us to a room that was half filled with food and also contained a crate full of excited-little-puppy. "Owen" was interested by the puppy and greeted him nose to nose through the crate, and was fine. He sniffed around and explored, but came to us every time we called him. He sat at my feet and leaned against my legs and I just knew he was it.

The nice lady at the shelter didn't give us many options. They don't hold dogs, and besides he was already vaccinated, heartworm checked, dewormed, deflea-ed, and neutered. He was ready to go.

I looked at Greg - who I could see was a little tense and hesitant - and told him "I think you should fill out the paper work".

There are times Greg doesn't listen to me... but when I have really strong instincts, he usually does listen (even when he doesn't understand, or doesn't immediately agree) and he never regrets it. Examples include the color of our living room, the color of our dining room, and the adoption of our first two cats.

We adopted him.

They gave us a little orange lead and we headed out into the night - it was 9:00 at night by this time.

Greg took the dog for a little run down to where the road was and I drove the car to meet him. then we got the dog into the car - not entirely easy because he wasn't all that sure of the whole getting-in-the-car thing. But once he was in the car, I sat with him in the back seat, and he curled up and put his head on my lap - ears back, eyes half closed, breathing easy. No whining. Occasionally he'd stand up or reposition, but the whole ride he was totally laid back and calm.

When we got to Petco he got a little excited (because the car stopped), but we'll work on that.

I went into Petco, got a hold of an Associate and basically gave them an invitation to Sell Me Dog Supplies. They gave me a great coupon book and walked me through food (sticking with the puppy science diet that the shelter was feeding him for now), treats (little chicken flavored training treats), toys (kong, rubber ball, tennis ball, bone, stuffed toy, soft frisbee), bed, shampoo, nail clipper, styptic, poop bags, collar, leash, wee wee pads, etc.

They made quite the sale.

Most of the stuff I would have gotten anyway - but she did talk me into "organic tearless shampoo" in a moment of weakness.

We took him home, and Greg took him for a 45 minute walk before bringing him inside. He didn't go to the bathroom while out. While out, Greg was supposed to call in our dinner order - however our nearby bar's kitchen was closed. So was the pizza place. So was the chinese food place. Did I mention I didn't have dinner that night?

I got the house together - the cats in the bedroom, the bed down, the toys out, ANY dog-attractive item, out of reach or out of sight. I called my mom - who was in bed and sounded tired - to tell her! She was amused to say the least. My parents think we're crazy for even considering getting a dog.


I called my friend to tell her we'd gotten a dog and she asked to come over sometime this weekend to meet him - his first playdate! squee! - so that was fun.

At that point Greg and Mr. mutt were laying on the floor together, heads touching and I was convinced we did the right thing.


I was doubly convinced we did the right thing when he reacted pretty well - VERY curious, but pretty calm - to our cats and then two of our cats relaxed completely around him.


At about midnight we decided to put everybody to bed so I took the cats up while Greg took the dog out in a last ditch attempt to have him empty his bladder. Then we set up a petgate in the bathroom doorway and put him in the bathroom for the night, with his bed. He cried once, but Greg immediately got up, went to him, calmed him down, and came back to bed. Then he slept through the night till 5:15 when Greg got up and took him for another 45 minute walk. He didn't have an accident. When they got back, he also wouldn't eat.

I got up and put breakfast and lunch together. Greg took the dog out again, to no avail. We set him up in the kitchen and left for work. This next part you basically already know. Greg left to come home at noon. He drove 25 minutes to get home to find 8 piles of poop and 2 pee accidents - one on his bed, all in the kitchen. The dog greeted him at the front door - obviously not deterred or contained by the silly pet gates. That was a brilliant $150 spent, I hope to redeem them with the proper containment of our children when the time comes.

Greg took the dog out and cleaned up ALL the mess. What a trooper.

I reached him on the phone at about 12:30 because I knew he'd be home then, I heard a "Hi. Can I call you back"... I said "Uh... yea, okay." And then click.

He didn't call me back until 1:45 - I was going out of my mind. Imagine my surprise when his first words were "I just got back to work." He was slightly out of breath. He explained the whole ordeal. He also hadn't checked the rest of the house. So here I was, freaking out. Here he was, upset, late, feeling bad and guilty and depressed. This had been our plan A - He would go home at lunch.

It didn't work. Period. It was a spectacular failure. He later told me that he considered taking a picture of the state of the kitchen... but just plowed through instead. He didn't even want to take a moment to grab the camera and snap a photo. That is really saying something because, afterall, when he put a big masonry screw all the way into his leg, he took a moment to snap a few photos. This, he says, was worse than that.

So, I got a parking pass. Now for $1260 a year I get to park in the fancy schmancy parking garage nearby and I can leave for work at 8:15 a.m. instead of 7:15 a.m., I can go home at noon and be there in 10 minutes and I can stay there for a full 40 minutes. I can Leave to go home at the end of the day at 5:00 instead of 6:00 p.m.

For the past 2 years I've commuted with Greg. This is a B-I-G C-H-A-N-G-E.

The dog will only be alone in the morning for about 4 hours. I'll be home for 45 minutes, and then he'll be alone for another 4 hours. This should be short enough time spans to consider using the crate, no?

Greg will take care of morning doggie care, I'll do lunch and early evening.

Greg was surprised when I called to ask for our license plate number, but I could tell he started to be relieved. It's a good parking system here - I'm on the waiting list for cheaper parking, but we'll make do for now. I can cancel at any time and they'll stop charging. Greg'll have to drive our old car from now on, but he's okay with that.

He decided not to make up the time he missed yesterday. He talked to his boss and he made it up this morning by going in extra early. So when he came to pick me up from work I explained my rock solid plan. I told him that I was going to take your advice. There were some things we needed to go out and spend some money on - Immediately. Another list?

1.) We were going to go to Petco and buy a crate.
2.) We were going to get an appointment for him at Petco for a basic grooming session just to get the shelter grime off and to have his little mats professionally clipped out. (from then on we'll bathe him ourselves with our fancy tearless organic shampoo.)
3.) We were going to order dinner because I didn't want to cook, I didn't want him to cook, and I did want to eat.
4.) We were going to order Greg's Birthday Present early. Roller Skates.

When we got home to the dog - expecting another poop party, we found nothing. He greeted us at the door again, but there were no accidents. And the rest of the house was pristine - there were no issues or problems. There were no chew marks or things knocked over. The only difference, in the entire house, was that a pair of Greg's boxers that was at the bottom of the stairs was at the top of the stairs.

If all he's gonna do is move laundry around - I'm good with that.

We took him out and then headed to Petco.

He has an appointment on Saturday for a bath and a nail trim and a brush out and an (yum) anal gland check a few hours after his Vet appointment.

We have a crate.

We got him home and Greg took him for a short run - we have since decided that he needs a little more than that for now. Two full 45 minute walks at the least, every day, are going to be needed.

We had dinner, and he didn't bother us or beg for food - he just settled down at our feet.


We mostly just took it easy. Greg took him out at 8:00 p.m.,10:00 p.m. and Midnight. At Midnight he peed!!!! outside!!!! infront!!!! of Greg!!!!

YES!

I rarely feel so excited about urine.

Last night was a little less easy with the sleeping in the bathroom thing. I assume that a large part of that is because he knew how to jump over the gate. Greg kept getting up all the way till 1:30 a.m. to calm him down and come back to bed. He had to clean up one poop accident, and then the little guy went to sleep.

Greg repeated his ritual this morning, I got up at 7:15. I was greeted with eggs with peppers and feta for breakfast and a farty dog. I simply could not tell if he was farting or his stomach was just roiling or something... He was acting normal... but I took him out anyway. He didn't go to the bathroom despite standing outside for 15 minutes. I did, excitingly enough, find the bottom half of a rat splayed out in the middle of our small-ish backyard.

Gross.

I took him back inside, we hung out till 8:00 when I took him out again, and then I left for work. He didn't go to the bathroom again, so I'm fully expecting accidents when I return home today.
Also, I didn't crate him because he doesn't seem completely comfortable with the crate yet, and I don't want it to be a negative experience for him, but it is set up and open if he's interested. I also didn't close the gates around him the kitchen. I tried - don't get me wrong. But then when I walked up to my bedroom to grab my purse, I turned around and there he was, right behind me. Something tells me he might be good at Agility stuff. SO I'm tempting fate by leaving him UNCONTAINED in the house. I waffle between terror and happy-go-lucky I'm-not-listening! moods.

My points are that Greg still likes him even though he had to clean up the 8 wonders of the poop world, I still like him, and the weekend is almost here so we'll be able to spend some more solid time with him and more fully introduce him to the cats.

We also don't have a name yet. He's a gentle dog, so we want a gentle name. We are taking suggestions so I'd love to hear from you. What comes to mind when you look at this face?


Thanks for your suggestions and support (see? I listen! Crate! Check!) and stay tuned for further adventures.