It’s been a little slow at work lately.
I’m tempted to not even put this in writing, in fear that this admission will summon the universe to deliver more work than I am able to handle into my lap as a sort of pendulum swing, restoring the balance type of act.
Anyway, it’s been a little slow and whenever it gets a little slow I have gotten into the extraordinarily dangerous habit of Googling local dogs who are up for adoption.
I know I shouldn’t, I really know I shouldn’t, but I kind of can’t help it. I got it in my mind somewhere around the age of 24 that I would adopt a dog at 27. I don’t know why I picked this arbitrary age, but now that I am 27 this proposition from 24 year old Cat is just dangling constantly in the back of my mind, egging me to go and check out the dogs or whatever.
So I keep looking.
(As a quick sidebar, I’d like to point out that I have been receiving intense encouragement to adopt a dog from my roommate and my boss and generally anyone else who I present this notion to. Which is good, but also very bad.)
About a week ago (it already feels so much longer for some reason) I stumbled upon this adorable, speckled boxer mix named Milkshake. And I fell in love.
This was bad, because I kept revisiting her page and just looking at her. Something about her just kept bringing me back and back and consuming my mind. I’ve talked to everyone about her, and I have received overwhelmingly pro “Adopt Milkshake” responses. In fact, the only “You should wait until you live on a bigger piece of property/Now isn’t a good time for a dog” came from my boy, Long-Distance-I-don’t-know-what-the-fuck-we-are (Let’s call him LD for short) from MO (YEP, STILL THE SAME GUY). He was being logical, but I couldn’t fucking turn away from this dog for some reason.
Tuesday, I caved.
After internally hammering this debate out for an entire weekend, I emailed the rescue place for more information. Just to see. Just ‘cos I was curious, right? Just so they could tell me no and I could get over this entire insane idea.
Nah. They told me she was incredibly sweet, well mannered, almost house trained, affectionate and loving, and growing into a wonderful dog.
I said I was interested in meeting her and they advised me to fill out a no-obligation, incredibly long adoption form. They also told me other people were interested in her. Of course they were. Scrambling, I hammered out my finest three-page essay attempt at answering all the questions to paint myself as the responsible dog owner I had the potential to be. There was a clause on the website outlining the notion that the rescuers adopt the dogs out to the best home, not necessarily the first inquirer. Ugh. Why did I have to get attached to this dog? Some suburban family with a yard was probably going to get her. My apartment with a dog park was a measly comparison. We set up a time at an adoption event in a few weeks that I could swing by, and that was that. I had fucked up royally, because now I was going to meet this dog and fall in love and either not be able to get her or she was going to be selected for a different home instead.
I got on here today to write about the brewery I went to in Dallas, but all I can think about is this damn dog. My boss came in my office yesterday, presumably to tell me something work-related and I glanced up guilty, slowly twisting my monitor to face her. Blown up on my screen was a picture of the dog from an adoption event I had found on Facebook a few months ago. I’m glad my boss is easy-going.
I’m tryna prep my heart for this heartbreak. I shouldn’t even meet her because they’re not going to give her to me. I know it. But now I’m also stuck on what happens if they do. Am I being rash? Am I going to be a dog owner in a few weeks?
All I know is I’ve dived into this rabbit hole, and I’m not sure what’s waiting on the other end.
Disclaimer: Not sure if I am allowed to use this picture of the cutie pie but I had to depict why I am so torn over all of this. Look at that face. JUST LOOK AT IT. What am I doing. Why did I do this to myself. As I said, I have made a terrible mistake.