Since I have accepted the fact that I should not be making any relationship decisions or commitments until the right person comes along, a chance that (due to some winter blues) looks slim, I decided that I was going to adopt a dog.
Of course, this is not the only reason I wanted to adopt. I wanted the companionship, the love, the responsibility that comes with knowing you have to wake up at 5:45 am to walk the pooch. I wanted to come home to something that loves me, to go running with a partner, to provide some extra warmth on cold nights, and to have a subject for one gazillion Instagram posts.
I wanted a pup.
So, I started in the beginning of January looking at adoption websites. (Which reminded me all too well of my OKCupid and eHarmony days.) Here I was, scanning photo after photo of potential love interests, all good-looking and interesting in their own unique way. Some were very forward with their bad habits (i.e. smoking, Republican, does not play well with others, not housetrained), some hid them a little bit better. Some of the photos held gorgeous specimens of top-notch breeding and care, others were a little rougher around the edges.
I reached out to many different organizations about dozens of potential matches.
“How are they on long walks?” “How are they with others?” “Are they active?” “Are they calm?” “Do they shed?”
I met with several matches, hoping for the perfect fit, hoping that I could find my forever home filled with love and laughter and light. One was too old, one too aggressive, one just took a shit in the corner.
I got downtrodden, depressed, dejected. Here, I was offering my entire life, my home, my time, my love, for something that didn’t give two figs about me, something that would hump me and then lick himself for 20 minutes. All I wanted was to be a good partner and all I found was rejection.
Until, a picture of a beautiful match showed up on my phone. Younger than I originally was hoping for, not my typical type at all, and a female which, I was not necessarily expecting. I knew this was the one for me. In my gut, I felt a solidifying determination. I knew. I knew I found the right one who could fill my days with happiness. I knew.
When I saw her, she ran into my arms like they were home and she hasn’t left them ever since. We had found each other. We were in love.
That’s not to say that these past five days haven’t been super difficult. There has been a lot to get used to and more expense than I had originally bargained for. Being apart from each other is more than either of us can stand and I find myself letting myself go – not exercising, not doing my hair, not putting effort into my outfits – just so I can spend a little more time with her.
I am learning how to be patient when someone doesn’t move at my speed. When I have to take several giant leaps backward, so someone can make a tiny step forward. How to not lose my temper when they don’t understand what I am trying to say. I know that we will both adjust to each other’s schedules, but right now it’s difficult to imagine a time it won’t be difficult.
Regardless of difficulty, regardless of how long it may take, I have written this post with one hand, as my other is being held between two, furry paws, and I could not be happier.