Dog is My Co-Pilot

"Do you want a dog?" is a great first-date question, because if the answer is "no" then you don't need to waste your time any further. Thankfully, my (then future) fiancée answered with a resounding "YES" on our first date, topping it with those magic three words every girl wants to hear:

"I only adopt."

So a year later after we moved in together, we spent our first day in our new apartment starting the adoption search. I figured it would be quick and easy-- after all, millions of dogs and cats in the U.S are in massive need of safe, loving homes every year. The ASPCA reports that 6.5 million animals pass through animal shelters annually, and an unfathomable 1.5 million of those get euthanized. That's a lot of wet noses poking through cage fences, waiting to be rescued.

So I thought it'd be a cake walk, with shelters practically throwing adoption forms at us like the mail scene from the first Harry Potter-- flying in from our mailbox, through the windows, down our chimney, etc.

We were wrong.

The application process was as grueling as the college admission process. We spent hours pouring over essay-style questions required by shelters. We stewed over the right response to seemingly trick questions. Did we think it was OK to leave a dog alone all day? How much money did we plan to spend on our pet each month? Each year? Had we ever had a bad experience with a dog? Then, we each had to list three references, (which shelters DO contact) both from work and our personal lives.

And though painfully tedious, this is the way it should be. I can't imagine being on the other side of the adoption process, devoting your volunteered time to ensure the defenseless lives you're responsible for are put into loving homes and out of the hands of predatory, sinister animal abusers.

But on our end, after hours of work spent on individual applications, we got...crickets. Weeks went by without even a reply.

"Oh yeah, you've got to jump on these things," a friend then advised. "You see a dog you like online, you need to RUN to the shelter that day. When we got our dog Bear, there were two pairs of couples already at the shelter ready to grab him. If they're going to become part of your family, you've got to fight to get them."

My fiancée and I were mortified. How could you know, with so little time to decide, whether a dog was right for you? Or whether you were right for the dog? Isn't there a certain level of 'chemistry' to discover? Otherwise what were all those dog parents' bumper stickers that read "I didn't choose my dog, my dog chose me" about?

After awhile, we finally got a hit. A whole litter of border collie-corgie mix puppies that all needed homes. Each were named after different cheeses and we honed in on a boy: Provolone. We called and YES, Provolone was still available! And YES we could come see him that weekend!

We were overjoyed. Finally, a YES! My fiancée and I were dancing around the apartment, agreeing our new favorite cheese was now provolone.

That Saturday morning, we hopped into my clunker of a car to trek two hours away to meet our little cheese puppy. By the end of the day, we planned to be newly adopted puppy parents.

And then...my car wouldn't start.

"WHHHHYYYY" I called out above the grinding sound of the transmission not turning over. I laid my head on the steering wheel. It wasn't going to happen. My fiancée solemnly called to cancel. Instead of spending the day getting licked by a pile of puppies that day, we spent it waiting for a tow truck to tow my car- and my dreams- away.

Then, the next day we got another hit for a dachshund-beagle mix puppy named Maya. Our hearts were still set on Provolone though, and we were scrambling to get a rental car to reschedule our appointment to meet him.

A few hours later, I got an email from my fiancée:

A little frustrated and overwhelmed, confused after putting all our excitement-eggs into one emotional basket with Provolone, we took the rental car out one night to Maya's foster parent's home.

And then we met this:

This little bread loaf was found abandoned with her brother in the backwoods of Kentucky, wandering alone in the forest at only eight weeks old. A woman claimed to find them and then turned them over to a shelter, though the foster mom speculated this woman also had something to do with their poor condition at the time. At 11 weeks old, Maya had already been abandoned from her mom, shipped to a different state, developed a parasite, and then was separated from her brother when he found a loving home. This was a dog that truly needed rescuing.

She was ours.

On the morning Maya (renamed Scully, after the great Dana) was set to be dropped off, we were more than ready for her. Toys, treats, multiple dog beds, and a new collar awaited her. Preemptively, I had set down pieces of newspaper by the front and back door in case she got a little TOO excited upon arrival. We got the text she would be arriving in a minute, so I quickly threw down the last of the newspaper without looking and then ran outside.

After we waved goodbye to Scully's sweet foster mom, we took her back inside and set her down to explore the apartment and discover her new world with us.

She took a few timid steps forward onto the newspaper and looked up at me. Finally, I read the headline on the paper under her.

And she sure is.

Two years later and Scully has been the best tagalong for all the adventures in our lives.

While the road to getting Scully was a little rocky, it was well worth it.

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If you can, adopt don't shop.

If you can't do either, check out the lovely Baby and Buddy Rescue that gave us our Scully and consider donating to their efforts so they can match their next rescue with a loving home.