I mentioned I would have something awesome to talk about this week. And then I post a picture on instagram of my adorable dog I just adopted.
I had been wanting a dog for a little while. My apartment in DC didn’t allow pets, so that prevented anything from happening there. Then, when I moved to NYC I had “pet friendly’ on my apartment requirements. So after finding the perfect apartment, I wanted to add a little dog to the mix.
Dog. NOT puppy.
So, I searched the interwebs for a dog to adopt. Because dogs need adopting, and I don’t have the pesos to buy a designer dog. Anyway, I found a couple dogs that I was interested in and emailed the agencies. I visited one here in NYC and decided that one wasn’t for me.
Then I found this adorable one year old poodle. Max. This guy, he was cute. A little scraggly. But looked like he would be hilarious. So I called and talked to the agency, and then talked to the family that owned him currently. And decided this one was for me. One catch: he was in Arkansas. So I paid a transport fee for him to get transported with a bunch of other dogs on a doggy semi to New Jersey. I had to pick him up at 4:30AM on Saturday.
As soon as I get him, I notice he’s a LOT smaller than what I thought or probably what was listed on line. But, no biggie. I’ll just get him some flashing lights to put on when we are walking so he doesn’t get stepped on.
Then the weekend fail begins.
Long story short: he was a six month old puppy. Had not been potty trained [which was listed in his profile]. Had never been left alone, not even for a second [which when I asked if he would be ok when I went to work, they said yes].
So the three things I told the lady were deal breakers, she lied about. Which made me extremely disappointed. And VERY stressed.
Do I keep him? CAN I keep him? Will he destroy my apartment when I leave to go to work? Why did they lie to me?? Will I be a bad person if I have to send him back?
So after 48 hours of dealing with a puppy, I called the lady that was in charge of the adoption and asked what my options were. She apologized, saying she had NO CLUE that the dog was a puppy or had such separation anxiety. whatever.
It was a difficult decision, but the right one for the puppy and me. I took him to upstate New York to get re-adopted there. He needed a home with someone that would be home ALL THE TIME. And unfortunately, my job prevents that. And it ruined the idea of adopting a dog ANY time soon. Or even ever. Which sucks. Because I was so excited about this.
That’s that story.