I’ve been back to work since Monday. I’ve gone through the natural progressions, as expected upon return to work after a full month off:
- Denial – “I’m not going back to work. It’s simply not possible. It must be some kind of misunderstanding. “
- Hope – “Maybe there will be a mass power outage and I’ll get just one. more. day. off.”
- Panic – “I have to work tomorrow. This was my vacation and the house still isn’t spotless! I should have scrubbed the baseboards.” (pet peeve..I need a house cleaner)
- Acceptance – Usually occurs on the actual drive to work.. “I can do this. Only 5 more days until the weekend”
- Panic – I re-visited this stage on Day 2. I am just not destined for this “full time employment” thing.
- Acceptance – “I can do this”
- Panic – “NO I CAN’T! I want to be a stay at home dog Momma and take in strays and save the world, one snuggly baby puppy at a time.”
- Well, you get the jist….
Day 4 and I’m still alive. I haven’t quit, or walked out, or had a mental break down, things are okay. So, on to the point!
Yesterday, I’m sitting at work, pondering life (litearlly, I need a career change, but that’s another story), and I get an e-mail from the animal rescue I volunteer with. Well, what’da you know..they desperately need foster homes for some dogs. Can I take one?
Okay, call husband.
“Look, babe, these dogs desperately need fosters.”
Nope, we can’t get another dog.
Okay, let’s try this again:
“But all they need is love, and understanding. And you only have to keep them until they get adopted. And they provide everything. It’s no cost to us!”
He informs me that, APPARENTLY, we already have two dogs.. (duhh)
“Okay, well that’s a great reason to foster! What difference will one more make?”
Apparently we also don’t have time for another dog. And who is going to clean up it’s poop?
“I will. And maybe it will get the idea of having three dogs out of my mind. Maybe it will be a wake up call for me and I will learn my lesson without consequence. I will be happy with only our two.”
That did it! Gosh, that’s reverse psychology if I ever used it. It’s my new tactic (#crazywife?).
With a little “I’m going to be right” chuckle, he reluctantly agreed.
Woohoo! We will take one! But did we want a dog or a puppy? Who doesn’t want a cute little puppy? (someone who wants to sleep and have a clean floor…)
But an older dog could have house-training issues, too.
I let the coordinator decide: we would take whatever they needed us to.
Next thing you know I’m setting up a time (same day!) to pick up a puppy. I could have my ‘pick of the litter from Kennel 4’, and take any supplies I needed. Holy smokes, didn’t see that coming so fast.
We showed up at 7pm, and walked down the hall along the individual kennels towards Kennel 4. Little noses and longing eyes peered at us as we walked by: “are you gonna pat me?!”
Oh. My. Goodness. Kennel 4 where have you been all my life?!?! Cute little puppies snuggled eachother in every corner of the room. One was awake and walked up to the gate to greet us. Ahh!! After a solid 15 minutes of trying to pick, the coordinator stopped by:
Is there any way you can take two?
Jamie looked at me with eyes, in a way to say “You knew this was going to happen, didn’t you?”
Next thing you know, we’re loading up two puppies in a tiny crate, grabbing a second set of supplies from the shelves, and being told constantly “two is way easier than one..”. I’ll admit, I started to panic at this point. We now have four dogs.
These little monster’s have been great (granted, it hasn’t been 24 hours yet..). The shelter said we could name them for their time with us, but they would be listed on the website by their provided names, so they could keep track easier. James told me not to name them. He said I would get too attached… I think he’s right, but this little guy is definitely “Tiny Tank”:
His brother, will remain nameless (or be called AJ, I suppose), until the mood strikes me:
From the whole crew. 😉