Ah, rescue dogs. I swore I’d never have another one after my last experience. The kind gesture on our part turned into a dog that had so many issues that he was as much a burden as a dog, right up to the day he bit me in what seemed to me as a moment of senility. I know it wasn’t his fault. I know none of it was his fault. But I also know that had I raised him from a puppy those issues, that couldn’t be cured with bloodwork, anti-anxiety medications, and all the efforts at behavior modification I made, probably wouldn’t be necessary. I swore that was it. My next dog would be a puppy, a purebred, pick of the litter puppy. I was wrong.
I often do things on a feeling of being compelled. I was compelled to check craigslist one night. I’m very, no, extremely wary, of craigslist listings. I’ve inquired about a few animals on there before to no avail. My inquiries usually include the words “why are you giving this dog away?” and “How much training have you done?”. It’s a way of weeding out all the rescue dogs I would have if I could. Needless to say, I have adopted none. Then, suddenly, there is an ad… it says that she has a pointer, a female under one year old and she just wants to find a good home for her. It says a little more and so, on a whim, I write her. Suddenly, we are going to meet a dog.
Luna, and a gigantic white one eyed husky, are tied out on a six foot line between the house and a tree, within eyesight of the highway in a mound of dirt. She looked grey and white, but she was friendly, and sweet. While she wasn’t what I wanted I knew we couldn’t leave her. Her current owner, the third or fourth of Luna’s short life, explains to me that she has been taken care of, that she is young, and shows me her paperwork. She has been taken care of, but it’s apparent that between her big husky, her eight cats, her tumultous life, that she can’t care for her like she would like to. We leave her there that night because her current owner has to contact her x boyfriend to make sure he really didn’t want her anymore. Two days later, we had a dog. She came home with a crate, with food, with heartworm prevention, for free. She also came with fleas, and dirt, that four baths finally cleared most of. I didn’t want her. I wanted a healthy dog, a male dog, a lab or a border collie, or an australian shepherd, or even a german shorthaired pointer puppy. I knew she would burst into a heat cycle any second, and I was right. Now that we’ve lived through that whole world of grossness, she has been scheduled to be fixed, we found out shes actually bright white and dark, dark, brown, and now, I kinda like her.
She’s a smart dog, a gentle dog, she’s house trained, she’s intuitive, and she’s no where near as hyper as I expected her to be (she’s a pointer). Her papers listed her as a different breed on each line, one a dalmation, one a bull dog, one a lab mix…. she might be a mix of something, but she is definitely, mostly at least, a pointer. So, if you’ve given up on adopting dogs like I had, think about it once more, and then maybe you’ll get as lucky as we did. Maybe you’ll rescue a dog you don’t intend to keep and find what you’ve been looking for. If you find a female dog though, get her fixed the day you bring her home or plan on investing in a serious floor cleaner, doggy pads, and lots of febreze…