Feeling the empty nest left by Shit Dog and Elisheva, we have been searching the rescue centers to see if we can give another dog, as the shelter people put it, a forever home. Looking at them on-line is not the same as touching and seeing how they interact, so this weekend we visited a couple of the weekly adoption fairs.
Bashert had a previous engagement today, so Yoda and I went to the tractor supply store to take a look around. We were looking specifically for a small, adult dog, an apartment dog; one that wouldn’t swallow up the space in our little townhouse and one that would get along with the feline and human residents. Not too tough of a list.
The selection for adult dogs was slim. There were six puppies two of which were pretty aggressive. They got into a nasty tiff right front of us that kind of stunned Yoda. Good thing we weren’t searching for a puppy.
Only two adult dogs fit close to the bill. Sheila, a Jack Russell mix and Maxwell, a terrier mix. We have a few friends with Jack Russell dogs and they tend to be a bit too excitable (the dogs, not necessarily the parents). I knew Bashert would not approve, so we moved to look at Maxwell.
Maxwell has a face that deserves a Disney career. Beautiful light brown eyes, mottled brown and white, scruffy coat. He was rescued from a high kill shelter one day before the execution date. Ms. G, who operates the adoptions knows Bashert and knows we would give a good home to any animal (just don’t ask about the wild bird fiasco) loves Max very much, but like all who run such things, she just doesn’t have anymore room.
He was very calm, something necessary in the face of Yoda’s vibrating self. He was larger than we wanted, but his personality and somewhat non-shedding coat were pluses. He was nonplussed with the puppies and children milling around, so I caved.
Ms. G. had us signed up and we were walking out the door with Maxwell before I knew it.
I think I realized my mistake as soon as we entered the door at home.
When we got Elisheva, she claimed us right away. She lived in the vet’s office and had been seen by several people before we came. When she came around the corner, she peed on the floor and went nuts to see us. The vet staff was embarrassed and said she had never acted like that before. We belonged together.
Shit Dog fell in love with Elisheva first, us second, but was automatically part of the family as well. We all fit together.
The magic isn’t there with Max. Maybe it’s because he’s too big, maybe it’s because he’s too normal (we tend to attract the odd and neurotic), maybe it’s just too soon. When pulling up a photo of him to show someone, I ran across one of Shit Dog and began to cry.
Max will spend the night with us, but tomorrow we will take him back to Ms. G.
Maxwell will make a wonderful companion for someone, just not us. He is a sweet boy who deserves a big yard and a kid who will wrestle with him. He deserves the magical fit and so do we.