The almost addition, part 1.
We've been looking for a dog for a while now. Not actively searching really but keeping an ear/eye out. One night at the beginning of June, I decided to find out if there were any pet rescue operations in this area and I found one located about an hour north of here. I looked through their list of pets and one dog in particular caught my eye.
He was described as about 1.5 years old, friendly, eager to please, housebroken, and there were no warnings about small kids. He was a mixed breed but his predominant breed appeared to be Doberman. I've wanted a Doberman for as long as I can remember.
I talked it over with Ice and, even though we had intended to get a puppy, he said if I wanted to apply for this dog, it was fine with him. I filled out the really long application form and emailed it the next day. I also included a few questions about things like why he was in the shelter and how long they'd had him. The woman in charge of the rescue operation replied that night with the answers to my questions and said she would read my application.
A week went by and I didn't hear anything more. I couldn't stand waiting so I emailed and asked her to let me know where we stood, one way or the other. She got back to me within minutes and admitted that she “totally forgot” about our application. She said that a woman was supposed to come and see the dog on the previous weekend but hadn't shown up and that she had rescheduled for later that week. So, back to waiting.
On Thursday of that week (the 12th), she emailed me and said that the woman had stood her up again and, if we were still interested, we could see the dog on Sunday or Tuesday night. So on that Sunday (the 15th), Ice and I went to see him.
He was great. Friendly, energetic, and he barked the least of the five dogs on the site (two dogs in foster care, the other three belonged to the people that owned the place). I said we'd take him, she said you can pick him up on Tuesday, I said great.
On Tuesday (the 17th), I left L in charge and went to pick him up by myself. He loved riding in the van and when we got back here, I had the kids meet me outside on the front porch. He got along great with them. He sat when they told him to and he didn't try to jump on them once (as he was prone to do with adults). Everything seemed to be going well.
This is a long story and it's taking me forever to write it out. Part 2 will have to wait until tomorrow.
Posted by Ripley on June 21, 2003
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