As many of you know, I’ve been a dog sitter on Rover for the last year and a half. My business has grown pretty well, with a lot of repeat customers. The thing is though, for as much as I love doggies, caring for them doesn’t always equate to a connection or a bond. In other words, I’ve probably had about 20 different clients, but only a few have really jived with us. For most of them, they come and stay for a few days, then they go home and that is that. The engagement is somewhat transactional. And certainly, at different stages of their lives, doggies can be more aloof like Remy and Martin were in their elder years. They aren’t as interactive.

After Christmas, I hosted Buster the beagle and Cody the corgi for about six days. They are repeat clients, but omg, I fell really hard for Buster. After he left, I just sobbed and sobbed. Like uncontrollable wailing. It hurt so badly. And I think this reaction of mine, along with new feelings that have cropped up in the past month really pointed to the idea that we are ready to have a doggie warm our home again.

When I’d come home and Buster and Cody would be so excited and eager to greet me, it made me so happy. When I chased them around the yard, tugging on their toys, it brought so much joy. John made a comment the other day that with all the rejection I face from my new career, more than ever, it’s important for me to feel valued and loved and useful.

So after the new year, I ramped up on the puppy porn. I will say, pet adoption sure has changed since back in the day. Can you believe I got Remy in 1998 through a classified ad in the newspaper? And Martin we got through an adoption event in 2003 at the local PetSmart. His adoption involved filling out a form and writing a check. Then, off he went with us. Flash forward 15 years and before you can even meet the dog, you have to complete a multi-page application, including your history, how you would handle certain training challenges, a home visit (or at least pictures of your home), a phone interview, references, PLUS the meet/greet. I mean, as someone who values thoroughness, I understand. But gosh, it’s just so much more involved than before.

So this past week, I submitted four different applications. Well, Nala, the St. Bernard mix got adopted the day after I applied. Then there was a labbie mix Loki. I never heard back from the org (ALL of them are completely volunteer-run so process isn’t as efficient as it could be), but we went to the adoption fair on Saturday. We met him, but he was a little aggressive/uneasy and looked a lot like Martin. Maybe too alike.

Then I contacted the beagle rescue (Yes, Buster was THAT compelling). Met an old girl Misty, who was very independent. But in the end, we felt she was maybe too old and too near the caretaking period, which John is not quite ready to enter again so soon. I scheduled to see another beagle Max for Sunday evening. Then almost on a whim, I did a search for German Shepherd Dog (GSD) rescues. It’s kinda weird how sometimes life has these common threds… When I was a kid, I always loved German Shepherds. I had breed-specific books on them and I just loved that they were intelligent and loyal working dogs. I’d read that they needed a lot of mental stimulation and consistent training and yet, as a child, none of that fazed me.

When I got Remy, I specifically answered her ad bc she was a shep mix. When I got her though, she was clearly mixed with something little. It was fine, she was still beautiful and I loved her so much. But she wasn’t really a GSD in the traditional sense. And what I’ve noticed as I’ve gotten older is that I’m more worrisome and less confident. For example, I as a kid was more confident about taking on a GSD than I am as an adult. I’ve continued to love GSD through the years but my brain somehow convinced myself that they were no longer a realistic choice– they are prone to diseases, anxiety; they are too smart; they require too much energy… all the things that drew me as challenges in my younger years now dissuaded me. Then we saw Bentley, a beautiful white GSD with the sweetest face. And based on his description, he is so unlike the typical breed. No aggression. No anxiety. Very gentle. Gets along with other dogs. And then I read that white shepherds are the recessive trait and their temperament is softer, so they are never used as police dogs. Long story short, we went to meet Bentley yesterday. And I communicated back and forth with his owner. His story is that his owner got him as a puppy but then her job changed and she moved out of state. Her new apartment doesn’t take dogs, so she had him with her mom and grandmother. But her grandmother is getting more frail and is prone to tripping, so now he’s been relegated to the yard. After a year, they realized he needed a new home.

I don’t judge his owners for what has happened. Of course, as dog lovers, we never want to see an animal given up, but hell, this is life. Shit happens. Circumstances change and ultimately, this is their sacrifice– to give up a dog they love so he can have a better life. For some reason, it makes me think of all the difficult decisions we have to make. Like with our aging family losing their strength, cognition, independence… these transitions are awful, sad, and hard. But tough choices have to be made. And there is strength, courage, maturity, and compassion in those choices. Since my trip back East for Christmas, I have been feeling so sad and burdened thinking about aging, frailty, and mortality. Some days, I feel immobilized by the weight of the anticipation of it all. But witnessing the fortitude of my childhood friend T and the resolve of J and his siblings in making difficult decisions for their mother, I see that you still have to move forward. Paralysis doesn’t help anyone.

We adopted Remy and Martin with but a few minutes of consideration. By comparison, this decision to adopt again took much more time and analysis etc. Perhaps we are more cautious now. Perhaps we are more averse to inconvenience or hassle. Perhaps we have become overly concerned with optimization… Ahem, do any of these things sound familiar? We are trying to catch ourselves from morphing into our parents…

Yesterday, I liked Bentley but it’s always hard to form a bond on a first meeting. And honestly, I gave myself a tummy ache worrying about this and that: is he the one? right now or later? what if this or that? Incidentally, I caught a cold yesterday too. I got no sleep the night prior, bc I was worrying about so many things.

But I have decided to channel my younger self. And John points out that this GSD is a common thred: I have always loved the breed and this is my chance to adopt one with “softer” qualities. We have the time, resources, and experience. And we love dogs. They bring us joy. The time is now.

So today, I woke up sicker than yesterday but feeling a new mental clarity. We have been in talks with the owner who now lives in Vegas. We need to work out some logistics regarding his neuter surgery but other than that, it’s just a matter of picking him up and bringing Bentley home.