Acquiring a dog may be the only opportunity a human ever has to choose a relative. ~ Mordecai Siegal
I’d like to introduce you to Sadie.
Sadie is five years old. Samantha, Kishka and I brought her home from the Humane Society yesterday. But, I’m getting ahead of myself.
I stopped at the Humane Society Thursday night after work. I’ve been thinking about another cat and/or another dog for a little while now. I decided to check out the cats (since the last thing I thought I needed was another dog).
I checked out all the cats. Twice. And none of them caught my eye. There were plenty of older cats (over age 8), but none of them felt like my cat.
There was a row of dogs across from one of the rows of cats and a yellow lab caught my eye. I’ve never thought about a lab, but I certainly wasn’t opposed to it. She was five years old (the perfect age since she’s not too young, yet younger than Kishka) and I couldn’t stop staring at her. I assumed it was just general dog lust, so I looked at all the dogs that were there.
I found myself back where I started: staring at this yellow lab until the announcement came that it was closing time (when I arrived it was already too late to adopt or even visit an animal so that’s why I was just watching her).
I thought about this dog all evening and decided I’d let Sam and Kish make the decision for me. Odds were, either they wouldn’t like her or she wouldn’t like them. Sam and Kish had met another dog last month and that dog hated Kishka. I was probably getting all worked up for nothing.
The next morning, I was at the Humane Society when they opened. I met the yellow lab and knew instantly that if the dog meeting didn’t work out, I would be very disappointed. She was just a bundle of love and I adored her the moment I met her. Sam and Kish had the last vote, though. If that meeting didn’t go well, this dog wasn’t mine.
The Humane Society worker took her outside and I brought the girls around to meet her. Everyone sniffed and then they ignored each other. Perfect! I breathed an audible sigh of relief and the Humane Society worker smiled and said, “I think she’s perfect for you and your family”.
I went inside, completed the paperwork and walked out with a new furry friend.
I immediately began soliciting my friends for possible names (her name was Annie, but it didn’t suit her and she didn’t answer to it). There were many good ones in contention, but Sadie seems to suit her the best. I’m working on getting her to answer to it and so far, it’s working.
I know it’s impolite to speak of a lady’s weight, but Sadie is, well, enormous. She goes to the vet next Saturday and I’m dying to know how much she weighs. My first goal is to get her down to a healthy weight. She’s so large that she has a hard time just sitting, the poor girl.
I’m always so saddened at the number of wonderful animals at the Humane Society. It really was mind boggling. If you’re thinking about a new furry friend, please check out your local shelters. There are literally dozens (often hundreds) of fantastic dogs and cats and they are just waiting for you.
This is a huge soapbox topic for me. I cannot tell you the number of times I’ve been told that shelter dogs are inferior to dogs from breeders. That just isn’t true. In fact, I think they’re better than dogs from breeders. Besides the cost (I could never justify paying a breeder the insane amount of money that they charge), these dogs just seem to be so grateful to have a second chance.
Author Peter Mayle said it best: “A found dog never takes anyone or anything for granted. Somewhere deep in the recesses of the orphan psyche, never entirely forgotten even after years of good living and kindly, obedient owners, memories of hard times linger. And this….tends to give lost and found dogs a special appreciation of what the world can offer.”
If you go to the shelter, please consider an older dog. Yes, puppies are cute, but they’re also a lot more work and a crap shoot in terms of personality. When I met Sadie, I was able to see her personality and know that she would be a perfect fit for me and my girls.
There’s another perk to adopting an older dog: she slept through the night last night and is house trained.
She also snores like a freight train.
Last night, I seamed up my Vacation Hoodie. Then I tried it on and the nagging feeling that I’ve had for a few weeks smacked me in the head. The hood isn’t right. Sure, the sweater looks fine:
But it looks awful on me. The hood completely ruins how the sweater fits and how it drapes. Everything else looks great, but that damn hood mucked up the whole thing.
I wasn’t sure about the hood from day one and I should have left it off and knit a collar instead. I’m planning a hoodectomy for the sweater and will start that as soon as I work up my nerve (and maybe have a drink or two).
With the notable exception of the hood, I love this sweater and already have the yarn for my next Central Park Hoodie (without a hood):
Taking that simple picture of this yarn was harder than you might think:
It’s a good thing she’s so adorable:
My faithful watchdog (she’s looking out the front window):