Warning: This will be a long one...
On Saturday, February 8th I was flicking through a random app for pets (I think it was Fido?) on my phone in the Giant parking lot. Yeah, I remember it pretty clearly. I had only been back in PA for a few days as I had to spend a few weeks alone in an empty apartment in Ohio while waiting for my job to let me move (work from home is the devil to start). It was a combination of finally being in a place where we were allowed to have a dog and the anticipation of having the blessing of working from home and being able to take care of a new dog that drove me to obsessively and annoyingly (per my DH) check for available pups. We were leaning towards a Doberman or a Bull Terrier and then.... I saw Her. I read the description which listed all the most important things to us.
- Cat friendly
- Calm and submissive
- Sweet natured
- Quiet
Since I would potentially be on phones during the day, quiet was a big one. Dobermans and Bull Terriers have big personalities and a tendency to bark. Training can help but if it's the nature of the dog it's just not fair to curb completely, especially since protection was a big reason for researching these breeds.
Of course, cat friendly was non-negotiable. Zoe is Daddy's baby. It's an eerie relationship that takes some time to understand but my DH loves that cat more than life itself and protecting her and Fang (our 4 year old DSH boy) was imperative.
I showed Daddy (get used to it, we're parents, that's how we call each other into the room now) a picture of the then "Spot" and I guess those eyes just drew him in. He has a major Knight in Shining Armor complex which I will never discourage. I mean, Zoe was a kitten abandoned by her mother next to a babbling creek found by a good Samaritan who heard her tiny cries... you get the picture.
15 minutes later I was on the phone with the Greyhound Rescue in New Jersey asking when we could pick her up. I mean, there was wiggle, just "yo, lemme get that girl". Lisa, the head of Greyhound Angels of NJ, told me people were lining up for this pretty girl and to submit a application for adoption ASAP. I did so as soon as I walked in the door and waited with baited breath for the call.
The next day we went out for breakfast, anxious because of how in demand Lisa said Spot was due to her coloring and age (she was only 19 months old). In the middle of mouthful of bangers and mash my phone rings with a NJ number. Nearly choking to death I answered to find out our application had been accepted and we'd be welcome to come see Spot whenever we liked. I did the big eyes to Daddy and we were on the road to NJ half an hour later.
When we arrived there were two greyhounds and what looked like a mastiff mix wandering the entry way. Both gave extensive nuzzles and attention but we only had eyes for Spot. We were put into a fenced in area inside the warehouse and when the door opened? She trotted right to Daddy and buried her head in his groin. It's like she knew that's who she had to win and did exactly what was needed. His face went from begrudingly here to "OMG I WANT IT, LEMME PROTECT THE BAAABBBYYYY". She barely gave me the time of day. Sigh. Then we tried to take her for a walk. She was nervous. I mean, tail between the legs, whites of her eyes showing nervous. She leaned into Daddy and looked at him like, please, take me home... take me away you sweet sweet man. Our attempt at walking her was a bust because she did NOT want to go anywhere. Somehow we looked past this and told Lisa, Yup. This is our baby. Let's get this done.
A week and a spay later we were picking up our precious little 60 lb baby. We were talked into a crate, a bed, a coat with snood, a harness, a bag of food, a giant box of Milk Bones and were given a pretty maroon colored martingale collar for free. You don't even want to know how much we spent. I know you do. Over $500. Daddy's justification was that we didn't have any of this stuff and it was giving money back to the shelter and... umm.. what else? Oh, they're very persuasive. The hour and half long drive home was spent with camera's out, eyes on the rear view mirror and tons of cooing. Here's what she looked like in the back of the Subaru.
Read on the next post to hear about the first few days of Spot's new home and how she got her name, Moly the Greyt.
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