In the Beginning

Well, it was almost 2 years ago when we came to Florida. Neither Tom, nor I were happy about having our family 12 hours away, but we knew we had to do this so we could both go to school, and so we made the best of it. When we were looking for apartments we decided to only look at pet friendly ones, with the intention of getting a dog as soon as we were settled in.
In 2010 we began doing our research. At the time we were still learning how to live as a couple and how to balance finance, and we quickly discovered as much as we wanted a dog, financially, it wasn't smart, and we were still trying to adjust to being us, how could we, in all fairness, try to bring a third life into this mix when the two in it were still working out things. We were planning a wedding, getting ready to travel out of the country, there were a number of big changes coming up, and with a heavy heart, I decided it would have to wait.
To fill the hole in my life, I got involved with rescue. From December 2010 to the present, I have volunteered with Dog Liberator as a rescue transporter and sometimes, an amateur photographer. I LOVE being a transporter, in the good times and the painful. There is nothing more rewarding than picking up a dog when they have hit rock bottom, where they are willing to give up, and driving them to the vet, or their foster and then following their progress as they blossom from a dog who was ready to give up, to a dog who is ready to live life to the fullest. I discovered that some transports were easier than others. One of the most difficult transports I had was when I picked up a dog from his owner. His owner had been injured, and was no longer able to walk him. In response, he'd taken to breaking out and running in the highway where cars flew past him at 50 to 60 miles per hour. On that transport I sat with the family for a while until his owner was ready, I hugged her, and loved on him. Her heart was broken, but she valued his life above all else. As we started out, he whimpered a little, and I apologized through tears, and promised him, it would be ok, things were going to get better. I knew his fosters, great people with a nice yard and a big fence and told him all about them. The transport went well, and he was adopted in a heart beat into a great home, but it was still painful.
We skip ahead to the present, or almost the present. In the past year we've been planning and casually searching PetFinder, Petango, PetHarbor, and shelter sites and in the past 4 months we've been actively searching. We narrowed down the breeds (and mixes) we wanted to look at and what size range we wanted to shoot for. Tom favored a medium to large dog, leaning to large. I love all sizes, but training wise, I feel like I am able to see a larger dog as they age they actually are. For example, a 4 month lab, and a year old lab, look significantly different, in dachshunds however, the lines are a bit more grey and they always seem a bit small and delicate to me. Don't get me wrong, our family owns a doxie and I love him to pieces, but for me, larger dogs are easier to work with so a medium or large was fine with me.
We considered what we wanted in our life with the dog. We intend to have kids in the future, so we needed to find a dog who seems to do well with children. I since I work in rescue, I wanted to find a dog who could play well with others. We don't own cats so that didn't matter as much. We searched and searched and found a few adorable candidates. We also dealt with heartbreak after heartbreak, as each was adopted withing days or even an hour of my visit to the shelter. I learned a lesson (which I didn't always follow) which was "call first, call often."

Her happy face, showing me she can sit.

On one visit, I called the shelter, drove 30 minutes to see the dog, and then found out that in the 30 minutes it took to drive out there, she'd been adopted. I also found several dogs who were close to what we wanted, but there was just something that wasn't what we were looking for. One example was that one dog was a good size, looked cute, was younger, but she had a tendency to climb on furniture, like a picnic table, and try to lick you in your face, even if you corrected her. We passed, and I wondered if I did the right thing. I am now sure that I did, as I got to speak with the couple who adopted her after I left.

This week, I visited a shelter two hours from our apartment. Yet again, when I arrived I discovered that the dogs I'd come to see had either been transferred to a rescue, or adopted. I went down my list and found that 3 dogs were still there, a husky, a lab doberman mix (not quite what we'd planned to look for), and a lab mix.

I discovered that the doberman mix was cute, but a little unruly for what we were looking for. She was ok, but... I decided to meet the others. The Husky and the lab mix were in the same room. I walked in and they both smiled and wagged their tails. We like huskies, but their shedding is a bit... intense? He was lovely, and pretty well behaved, but he also talked, like howled, a good amount and was much more vocal than the Lab mix girl.

I knelt down to see her. She promptly walked over and put her paw in my hand, as if she were saying hello and then set her head in my arms. She was gentle, calm, and to top it off, her handler showed me that she (fairly consistently) can sit, give paw, and could lie down and roll to her back. 

Smiling for the Camera

I sat with her for at least 20 minutes, and then asked about some details. The first detail I was given was--- someone placed a hold on her about 40 minutes ago.  My heart sank.... here I was again, loving a dog I couldn't have. The second detail I got was "but they also put a hold on the husky, and they said he looks a lot like their dog who recently passed."

Profile shot.

Showing me she can sit again.

 The third detail made my heart leap "and you could put a second hold on her, if they pass, you'd be first in line for her." I texted Tom (as I had been during the whole visit) and let him know what I thought. He agreed with me. What seemed like seconds later, I sat, paperwork on my lap, my heart running in circles with my mind:

Mind: "Don't get your hopes up."
Heart: "But they want the Husky too! We might have a chance!"
Mind: "BUT they could also take her, or take both of them."
Heart: "But she is perfect for us."
Mind: "But she might be perfect for them too."

I spoke to the shelter workers and they seemed to like me. We discussed how the holds would work: If the other family dropped the hold, they would call or email me (possibly both), and either way, by about 10:50AM or 11AM their hold would lift, and mine would begin. I saw the dog one more time, said goodbye, and walked to the car. I wasn't sure whether to smile or sob. I went home, no knowing if in the morning, I would get a call telling me she was ours, or she was adopted.  That evening I cleaned the house over and over, and could barely sleep. Waiting and hoping, no knowing what would happen to the little dog that the shelter called "Okelani" (Oak-e-la-knee).

Read our next chapter together! - Her Story Continues