It was a couple of weeks after moving into our new apartment when I received a much anticipated phone call. A woman from the Dachshund Rescue organization was calling to set up a home visit so we could become approved adopters. The appointment was made and it would be only a matter of weeks before we would introduce a new dog into our lives. It was a moment I had dreamed about for years. Come to think of it, it was the day my childhood dog, Chelsea, died that I had yearned for a dog of my own. Truly my own, not a dog my parents adopted and I felt no obligation or allegiance to. Lydia was the dog they adopted just weeks after Chelsea’s death. Since I was older and not home as much Lydia became my stay at home mother’s best friend and I would always play second fiddle to her. Chelsea, who we got when I was 7 and died when I was 22, was my best friend growing up. She slept in my bed every night until she could no longer jump into my bed because of her bad eye sight and arthritic joints. She was the one would snuggle with me when I cried myself to sleep because people had been mean to me at school or when my mother was in the hospital. She was the one who would bark at me from the ground as I jumped for hours on my trampoline and then we would lay under the trampoline in the shade to cool down. We grew up together and I have missed that kind of bond from a dog for so long.
Fast forward – 3 long weeks
My phone rang with an out of state phone # and my stomach dropped for a second. We were about to leave to go meet with potentially our new dog. Our rescue rep sounded glad that she had caught us before we left. This left my stomach doing a flip with dread. She explained that the dog had just had a pretty invasive neuter and his was still on the mend. She wanted to let us know that if we wanted to meet him when he was more himself we would have that option. There was no way I was going to let him slip through our fingers – I was ready to meet our dog! It didn’t matter that he was still healing, there would times in our lives he may not be 100% but we didn’t care. We would take him with the good or the bad. Our rep sounded relieved that we weren’t deterred.
We jumped into Paul’s sedan and started our 3 ½ hour trek to meet with our new dog. His name was Lambeau but renaming him had been all we talked about for the past 2 weeks. I preferred Rigby and Paul preferred Ringo. We told each other that we wouldn’t make a decision until we met him. We had a picture the agency had given us but I knew seeing him in person would and could possibly change all name choices we had already had in mind. We were to meet our adoption rep, the foster mother and “Lambeau/Ringo/Rigby/Some other name unknown” at 3:30 pm but we felt leaving 1 ½ hour early was necessary. We were bundles of excitement and nerves. We ended up making enough stops throughout the trip that we only arrived there 20 minutes early. When his foster mother pulled up and we saw him, we awed and cooed like he was a new baby. He was our new baby. All my nerves went out the door when I saw his happy face. We crouched to his level and he bobbed his head down in hesitation. He was so shy at first but he warmed up instantly to Paul. We brought him into the dog park and walked him around; he was just the sweetest little boy whose tail would not stop. His wounds didn’t seem to be affecting his behavior at all. He even ran around a bit with Paul. Our rep and his foster mother looked us and asked if we thought we going to be taking him. It was no question. We had fallen in love with him the instant we saw him. So we filled out the paper work and got all his belongings and we were ready to leave. His foster mother seemed sad to let him go and I commend her and the job she does. It’s a hard thing to do, take in a little love bug and have to say goodbye so soon. I don’t think I could ever do it even though I want to think I could (when I have my own house and what not).
The ride was a long one. Lambeau seemed restless he keep on switch from one side of my lap to the next. Finally I decided I had enough bonding time(even though enough would never be enough) and had Paul sit with him in the back seat so he would a) have room to move around and b) have some time with Paul. He was so much more content in the back with his bed and toys and of course Paul who was already claiming his was the bestest and most brightest dog in all of creation! We arrived home he found his new bed and instantly plopped down on it and let out a long sigh. Paul jokingly called for him by his preferred name just to see what would happen. His tail started wagging and came running over. We looked at each and back at our new dog.
Ringo was home.