Maybe a Bad Decision

Despite our best attempts, we were not able to keep Daisy, the dog we fostered for my mother. She just wasn't good with young children, and we have too many young visitors for it to be a safe environment for everyone.

Soon after surrendering Daisy, Grace launched a campaign for another dog. She become obsessed with checking all the various shelters websites, non stop. She showed me an unending parade of dog photos. I told her if she could find a dog over two, who was good with children, good with dogs, good with cats, and housebroken, I would consider it. That was my first mistake.

Grace took this as a challenge. When she couldn't find a dog that qualified in a local shelter, she extended her search. She found a rescue bringing some dogs up from Texas that needed a home, called Freedom-Bound Hounds. There she found what she proclaimed, "The best! Dog! Ever!" Grace fell in love with this goofy face.

I was very hesitant, but the dog did meet all the qualifications. I was just not in the market for another dog, much less a pitbull. It broke my heart when we had to surrender Daisy, and I felt pretty worried about adopting the same breed. Yet, I let Grace fill out an application. My second mistake. I was expecting to be turned down, as we were open about having to surrender our last dog.

Apparently, it didn't count against us. Soon I was filling out another questionnaire and had a virtual meeting for a home inspection. We passed everything. Probably my third mistake. I should have started screaming at the kids and throwing stuff halfway through the inspection. I should have made it my mission to fail. Hindsight.

After three weeks of waiting, our dog, and several others were being driven up from their foster homes in Texas. After the transportation being delayed all day we got an email asking us to meet the organizers at a gas station. I was afraid that instead of getting a dog, we were getting set up to be mugged. Yet, we loaded everyone in the van and headed to a gas station on a cold dark night. We live dangerously.

We waited only a few minutes and then watched as a Subaru Outback pulled up and opened the hatch to reveal crates of dogs. They all looked comfortable, but it was a weird sight.  They pulled our dog from her crate, gave her a quick microchip, handed us her heartworm medication (she's positive), and Michael Venmo-ed the adoption fee. Our new girl needed some help to hoist herself into the van, as she is a hefty girl, and the kids started cooing over her. At least tow of the children were crying over how much they loved her. It was more emotional than any human addition to our family ever was.

We got her home, and she was stressed, but also wanted to be loved. She couldn't get enough attention and kids were more than happy to humor her. We were able to spend all weekend with her.

When the kids went back to school on Monday, our new addition, now named Appa, was heartbroken. She laid down on the girls' floor and whimpered. She would get so stressed when everyone left and her first week was pretty rough. She also didn't know if she could get along with the original cat and dog.

She did settle in, though. It just took her a little while to realize we would come back. She has even made peace with Harley. She is constantly trying to make peace with the cat as well, but the cat has opinions about that. 

Appa has now been here for a month. She doesn't chase kids, she doesn't eat other animals, she has stopped having accidents in the house. I guess we will keep her. She a sweet girl. Maybe she wasn't a bad decision. Just don't tell my kids I said that.