My Imaginary Friend

Image via Flickr Creative Commons, courtesy of Dave Farmer

I’m thinking about dogs.

Actually, I’m thinking about a specific, imaginary dog.  Not too big, but not too small.  Doesn’t bark too much.  Likes to take walks, but also likes to snooze beside me on the chair while I read.   And I read a lot.

This imaginary dog doesn’t shed much, it doesn’t chew shoes or furniture, and it will adapt to my life and rhythms.  Where are you, Buster?  Let’s go, Scooter!  Here, boy!

Our friend Sarah Gray is convinced Richard and I are ready for a dog again and for the past few days has been sending us screen shots of adorable, adoptable dogs from Mutts4Rescue.com.  Some look playful, others forlorn.   Looking at these photos opens my heart further and further to the possibility – the inevitability — of canine adoption.  But I’m still reticent.  Will a dog tie us down too much?  Will it complicate our lives?  Is this really the right time to add a dog to our life?  But if not now, when?

We both enjoy the time we spend with friends’ dogs, and though we’ve previously shared our lives and homes with dogs tipping the scales around seventy pounds – a golden/collie mix and a purebred Airedale Terrier – we’re more inclined this go-round to adopt a young dog who will fit under the airplane seat – a dog that can accompany us when we travel instead of one who will rack up boarding fees in a kennel during our absence. We’d like something fun and scrappy, like a Jack Russel or a Dachshund, and nothing that you’ve ever seen wearing bows or bling or that’s likely to be photographed in the arms – or handbag – of Paris Hilton.  So nothing overly fluffy or feminine or nervous.  Or yappy.  Or nippy.  Or twitchy.

I’m not proud to admit that, for most of my life, I’ve secretly sided with folks who said disparaging things about tiny canines – of course a pampered and perfumed Pomeranian isn’t a “real dog” – nothing at all like a solid, well-muscled shepherd or a retriever.  I loved my big dogs truly and well, though I don’t miss the slobber and the constant and endless vacuuming of dog hair.  I don’t miss having the interior of my car turned into a smelly dog crate with clouded windows, or the way a “real dog’s” exuberant tail can accidentally sweep wine glasses and a cheese plate off a cocktail table.

So we seem to have inched, slowly but surely, back into the market for a dog – though certainly a small one this time.

We’d like to adopt a rescue mutt or a pound pup, but I’ve resisted the pull of our local animal shelters for fear of making eye contact with all those eager, homeless, caged dogs that won’t fit inside the carrier I have in mind.  It’s hard to imagine I’d leave the shelter without someone – something – following close behind.  But how will I know if it’s the right one, a good fit?  And what if it’s not?  I’ve gone down the rabbit hole of Internet research, Googling “best small dog breeds” then scrolling through photos and descriptions of breed characteristics.  Sites like PetFinder.com allow you to adopt dogs from far away places and arrange for their transportation to their new home – yours – but isn’t this a bit like buying a pig without the poke?   How can we make a decision about adopting an animal we haven’t actually met?

I spend nearly an hour one morning phoning every animal shelter and veterinarian’s office within a thirty-mile radius.  I explain I’d like to adopt a small dog then supply my contact information; in turn, I’m given the names and numbers of even more animal shelters.  Tracy at the Gardiner Animal Hospital says, “We’ve got a Lost & Found and Giveaway book – hold on a minute.”  When she returns to the line, Tracy says, “There’s a four-year-old dachshund in here, but the listing is over four months old and I doubt it’s still available.   You might want to try a rescue organization.”