Like so many others, we got a quarantine dog…and literally opted into an entirely new level of crazy. Don’t get me wrong, this wasn’t an impulsive decision. Matt and I both grew up with dogs and we’ve dreamed of a family dog for our only child for a long time…and 2020 delivered! So, here we are: family of three humans, one cat (Ralphie), one fish (Ted) and now one dog (Chester, a.k.a, Chess, Chet, Little Shit).
I tend to exaggerate (just a little), but I really must have submitted 100+ applications. We wanted to rescue (we’re decent people), but had a list of must-haves that made it harder to find good matches: not too old; good with kids; good with dogs; decent with cats (for Ralphie’s sake); and low shed as my mom is severely allergic. One after another, I’d find seemingly perfect pups and my hopes would rise as I’d tackle the exhausting applications. For a solid nine months I did this just to get an email moments later announcing “sorry, the dog you applied for is no longer available.”
It was a fruitless cycle—and one that quickly became comedic. I poured my heart and soul into one application after another just to be rejected again and again and again. I did start off honestly, but slowly my answers shifted to what I thought would get us approved. As I mentioned, we’re pretty decent people and these Rescues just needed to give us a chance. I eventually (and not accidentally) became a single woman with a single fish (the husband, kid and cat seemed to be holding us back), with a fully-fenced in yard who never dreamed of returning to the office or traveling again. I even tried a cover letter that started “I am not a psychopath and want to adopt Gus [or whatever his/her name was at that given moment].” (In retrospect, I do see why I wasn’t awarded a dog with this tactic). Anyways, none of it fucking worked.
Fast forward to November, we happened to be out for a family walk and serendipitously ran into the owner of a local rescue. She provided some good information (I had apparently been going about it all wrong), and within a month we brought Chester home just in time for Christmas.
So, what’s life been like with our new addition? Well, to be honest it’s been fucking lunacy. Like our Jacoby, Chet’s smart, stubborn and full of piss and vinegar. He doesn’t listen, has gotten away (twice), torments the cat, and barks incessantly when he encounters another dog. He’s also so friggin’ cute! The jury’s still out on whether we’re dog people (or, as a matter of fact, cat or kid people), but we’re trying…one day at a fucking time.
Moral of the story: be careful what you wish for.
Classy, Sassy & Smart-Assy 