Doggone Perfect

It was so simple. My husband and I (well, really me) decided to adopt a dog after our longtime family beagle departed this world. We wanted (well, I wanted) to find another companion that would fit into our life.

What would “fitting into our life” entail? Mainly, we wanted a dog that would be lazy and loyal. The perfect canine for my household would have to be one that loved me recklessly and slept most of the time.

So, as creatures of habit, we returned to the Collierville Animal Shelter to adopt our new friend. The local shelter in our town paired us with our first dog, so my hopes were reasonably high that they could find a new companion that would fit the bill.

My requirements were merely this:

1. The pooch needed to be small, 25 pounds or under seemed like the perfect size

2. The new friend must be quiet. Who wants yapping all day?

3. He or she needs to not be a shedder. I already have enough to clean, why add more?

4. The best pets are already house trained.

So, we began our journey at the town rescue kennels. I clearly explained my requirements to the people at the front desk. To make things easier, I even told the staff that I was more than willing to wait for the “perfect dog”.

“No problem,” said one wise worker. “We have just the animal for you.”

Before I knew it, my husband and I were face to face with a frightened, seven-year-old canine. His name was Ollie. He walked restlessly over to my husband.

Both of us started to shake our heads in rejection. Ollie was a malnourished German Shepherd/Labrador mix. He had been abused, as evidence of his lack of front teeth and was heartworm positive.

We stared at the dog. Nothing about this poor mutt was what our family had been shopping for in the way of a new best friend. Hadn’t I been clear with my list?

My husband and I sat with Ollie and got to know the bewildered, shy dog that huddled at our feet. He was sweet and easy, and his nose nuzzled up to us.

Well, it has been two years since our fateful adoption day. I am pleased to report that Ollie is no longer malnourished (I fixed that quickly!), no longer heartworm positive (thanks to good vet care) and living the lazy, good life that he was meant to live.

I just have one question: How did folks at the Collierville Animal Shelter get it so right again? I guess they just knew what I most needed.