I got mail
I got this wonderful email from the lady that is adopting me. I am in love.
Patience, The Lick and “The Lean”
One of the most important things I’ve learned – and am still learning – from working with shelter dogs is patience. Patience and observation. Although my first instinct after my golden retriever died was to wait … there were a lot of life adjustments that had hit me hard … I knew at some point, I hoped at some point, another dog would come into my life.
Each week at the shelter I would silently scan the kennels to see – just see – if the right pup was there for me. The shelter staff (bless their hearts) were always on the lookout for my match. It made me feel really good that in my short time there, all of them liked me and trusted me enough to prod me along. I would watch as potential adopters came in, met with the dogs, and either found a match – or not. I remember one stocky little pit bull in particular though – the first pit I ever walked. Rather than deteriorate as many pitties do in a shelter environment, this little guy just savored his good luck at having a safe place to sleep, kind folks to walk him, and belly scratches to enjoy. He was there, however, for what seemed like forever. Oh, there was interest in him here and there, but pits need a special kind of adopter, so he just waited. Then one day, his luck turned and he went “home.” When I asked the staff how his fortune played out, I remember one of the gals telling me a man came in and when the two of them met, the dog leaned heavily into the man’s leg and looked up and over his shoulder adoringly at him. It was love at first sight for them both and every one of us that heard his story could barely choke back our tears. This is what it is all about. And this is the exact connection I’ve been seeking. Folks told me I would know it when it happened.
Rebecca is a wonderful rescuer. And she’s a wonderful writer. I can only imagine how many people have read your story or met you face-to-face that have been instantly smitten. Simply put, you’re one great hounddog there, Blu. When I came across your picture online and read your story, I was right there with them. I knew, however, that I needed to be patient. There’s no doubt you’re the kind of dog that would make just about anyone happy and I’m pretty sure Rebecca could have adopted you many times over. Fortunately, Rebecca is patient too. When I came to meet you the other day, it didn’t take long for that first sign of infatuation to appear. But I had to keep my head calm. I needed to know that the subtle nuances of budding love had to develop into a connection that was real and right not just for me, but for you, too.
Then, you and I went for our walk. You were behaving so nicely, I let you take the lead (I also had to watch where we were going so we both didn’t get lost!). A couple of times, I asked you to stop … sit … look at me … then back to walking. The last time we stopped, as you did as I asked, I offered you another of those yummy liver treats. In a split instant – perhaps one I could have missed entirely – you licked my hand. Then took the treat. My heart lept just a little right then and there.
Once we got back and I was spending time talking with Cathy and Rebecca, you came over to me. As I scratched your back and massaged your great hound ears, again, in an instant, our eyes met and, this time – this time - you gave me “The Lean.”
Now I know a lot of people are going to say, “Silly lady. Of course, Blu leaned. You were scratching him!” But I know better. I know that all the great dogs I’ve come across in the past two years were just bringing me a few steps closer to finding the friend I am looking for … as long as I had…patience.
Even now, big guy, my patience is being put to the test. I am SO ready to have you get to know me even better, to see your great new backyard, to have you meet your pesky little cat brother, and to continue nurturing your natural gift of friendliness toward others. And you, dear Blu, have been patient too. This is a reward that almost seems to good to be true, doesn’t it? I find myself catching my breath, wondering if this is really happening … that I, too, am actually – finally - finding myself as lucky as you.
I’ll see you tomorrow, big guy! :)