Mabel, Mabel, If You're Able

The instant I saw a photo of Mabel, I knew she was going to be my dog.

I couldn’t tell you exactly how or why; I had looked at hundreds of rescue dogs at that point, even inquired about a few that I was really serious about bringing home. But there was just something about her sweet face that made me know, deep in my soul, that she was going to become part of our family. My then boyfriend, now husband Devin, was just happy to be adopting any dog; we had talked about rescuing one for months even prior to all the Covid shutdowns, but especially being in the height of the pandemic we knew it was the right time. I don’t know if he felt that same instant, deep connection that I did to this specific dog; I remember feeling almost frantic telling Devin about her, and how I just knew she was the one. He was supportive and excited too, but reminded me to not get too attached; there had been several dogs we tried to adopt already who ended up finding other homes first. He doesn’t get it, though, I remember thinking. That’s OUR dog. I just know it.

The hours I had to spend waiting for the shelter to open were brutal. I had already filled out the virtual paperwork, and was at the mercy of the very busy shelter workers to get back to me. After what felt like an eternity, but was really only a few hours, I finally got the call. “Your application looks great! But I have to tell you, another family was already interested in her”.

My heart sank. This wasn’t like the other dogs that fell through; this was like a punch to the gut. The shelter promised that they were going to give this family until the end of the week to decide, and if they passed then I would be next on the list. “I have to warn you, though” they told me. “She’s never really lived indoors as far as we can tell. Her previous owners abandoned her and her puppies, and may have done worse than that. We don’t think she’s house trained, and she may struggle to adjust to home life.” I didn’t care - that dog, whom they had named “Lady” at the shelter, belonged with us, and we’d do whatever it took to train her and teach her what it meant to be part of a loving family.

I’m not typically an overly emotional or dramatic person, but that week of waiting for the final verdict was like torture. We had already bought several dog items in case we got the call and had to drop everything to go get her, but seeing the empty cage and unused toys made each passing day harder and harder. I was certain that the longer they took to get back to me, the more likely it was she would end up going home with the other family. At the end of the day, I truly just wanted her to find a home; but selfishly, I really wanted that home to be mine.

At the end of the week, I finally got the news I had been so desperately hoping for - the other family passed, and “Lady” (soon to be Mabel) was ours!

There are some moments that stay with you forever, and I know that was one of them; after wanting a dog for so long, and spending all those months in quarantine with no end in sight, this was the happiest I had been in a very long time. The day we picked Mabel up was a blur of pure joy. She was just the cutest, sweetest, craziest dog ever; despite being abandoned, Mabel absolutely loves all humans. When we arrived at the shelter to meet her for the first time, it was like she had known us her whole life. We spent about an hour playing with her and spending time together, and it really felt like she knew we were her new family. The shelter workers asked if we needed time to make a decision, but we knew before we had even gotten there: Mabel was coming home with us.

I’ve always felt a deep connection with rescue animals. I think in part it stems from the fact I was adopted myself - I was fortunate to be taken in by a loving family, and I always wanted to do the same for someone else, whether it was a child or an animal. The first few weeks after bringing Mabel home, I certainly acted like an overprotective mother; after all the shelter said she had been through and them expecting her to struggle with being an indoor dog, I was ready for the worst. I kept thinking that because of her past, especially as a rescue, she was going to have a hard time adapting or that certain activities would be too much for her. I was worried about her adjusting to her new life and whether or not she was going to be happy. My expectations were low; I planned on having to start training from scratch, and that it would take some time for her to develop a bond with us.

Mabel constantly proved me wrong. She had no trouble getting accustomed to indoor life; she proved that she was in fact housebroken, and was quick to pick up on other house rules. More importantly, from the moment she walked through our door, she acted like she knew she was home. The very first thing she ever did at our house was jump on the couch and curl up for a nap. She immediately acted like we were part of her "pack" - Mabel has especially formed a deep bond with me, almost as if she knows I was the one who found her (in reality, though, it's probably because I'm the most liberal with treats...).

Despite all my worries, and despite everything she may have been through before us, Mabel has proven to me over and over that she is more than able to do anything. She's always excited to try new activities, as long as she gets to be with one of her humans. She's always happy, goofy, and loving and so full of life. It's clear that Mabel is grateful to have a home and a family; we sure are grateful she's part of it, too.