“Can we adopt a puppy?”
“Hey, mommy, we should adopt a dog!”
“Wouldn’t adopting a dog be so awesome?!”
“Come on, mommy! Could we pleeeaaase adopt a puppy?!”
After years of badgering my parents about adopting a furry friend, my
mom finally gave in… Kind of. She told me that we would foster shelter
puppies waiting to find their forever homes.
“Let’s go, mommy! We’re going to be late!” I shouted as I anxiously
waited in the car. It wasn’t until what felt like twenty minutes later
that my mom finally started the engine and got the car moving on the
snow-covered road. We were on our way to pick up our fifth foster puppy.
I was sitting in the car watching the snow, fluffy and white, drift by.
Fingers tapping, body anxiously shifting in my seat, I practically
screamed at my mom, “Look! Over there! That’s where we’re supposed to
“Oh no, Em. I missed it. I’ve got to find somewhere to turn around.”
I groaned. Our next foster puppy was sitting with a volunteer in the
parking lot of a closed American Signature Furniture store, and now I’d
have to wait even longer to meet her!
But, before I knew it, we turned into the parking lot. It wasn’t
difficult to spot the car in which the dog was, because it was the only
car in the parking lot other than ours.
I eagerly hopped out of the car, bright pink and black paracord leash in
hand, and walked over to the old, gray-haired, wrinkly woman who I
assumed was the transportation volunteer from Almost Home Dog Rescue. I
knew that she and my mom began discussing some important details about
the dog, but, too anxious to listen, I didn’t hear anything more than,
“She… Really cute… Name… Dayzie.”
And, finally, in what felt to me like three-and-a-half-hours, the
volunteer walked us over to the trunk of her forest-green, snow-covered
Jeep. She put her gloved hand on the handle of the door, wrapped her
fingers around it, and began to pull it up. Immediately, my eyes went to
what – I mean “who” – was behind the door.
The first things I saw were four little paws. There was a black nail on
one front paw and one back paw, and all the others were a translucent
shade of white. Each toe, on every paw, was as white as the snow
covering the pavement beneath me.
The door gradually continued to open.
I, next, saw the beautiful fawn legs of this pup. I could easily tell
that she was only a few months old, since her paws were proportionally
larger than they would be on a full-grown dog.
The powdery snow fell off the trunk door.
The dog’s chest was broad and white. I began making guesses about what
her face would look like.
The trunk door clicked itself into place and was finally able to hold
At this point, all I could say was “wow.” This was obviously the most
adorable dog I’d ever seen. Her face was black with a fuzzy white chin
and wonderfully cute brown ears – the biggest, most floppy ears ever put
on a dog’s head. Butt wiggling, stubby tail wagging, I could now see the
pup’s gorgeous fawn body, skinny with ribs showing from not having eaten
enough at the shelter in Kentucky.
The volunteer confirmed what I heard her say: “Like I said before, and
I’m sure you already noticed yourself, she’s gorgeous! Dayzie’s some
kind of Boxer mix, I think, but that’s all we know about her.” My mom
responded, I’m sure, but I was too focused on Dayzie to listen.
A few minutes later, I clipped my handmade leash onto Dayzie’s collar,
took her out of the Jeep, and ran out of the freezing cold blizzard into
our warm, heated Ford to make the trip back home.
Dayzie turned out to be, not only the cutest dog I’d ever seen, but the
most naturally well-behaved. We all knew she’d be adopted in an instant,
but it was a really special surprise to find out a few months later that
my new best friend would spend her entire life with me. And, even though
I’ve wanted to adopt every dog we’ve ever fostered, it was definitely
worth waiting for the perfect fit for our family and my best fur-riend
fur-ever, Dayzie, to come into my life.