And Then There Were Three

And Then There Were Three
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Chance and Me.JPG

Well, I’m sure it’s obvious from the photo that Chance and I have decided to take a chance on each other. Thank you all so much for your encouragement and words of kindness; knowing that there are others like me who throw caution to the wind and make crazy decisions was a huge relief. And a big thanks to Carol Hine at S.A.I.N.T.S for the shout out on her blog.

So, even though I ruined the surprise, here is the story of how my crowded house just got a little bit smaller. I had spent the last week trying to rationalize with myself, “You already have two dogs who, if combined, weigh 140lbs and eat $70/month worth of kibble; a third is not an option.”

But resistance was futile. I had already drawn hearts around his furry mane in my dog-eared copy of the Summer issue of Modern Dog. The Mongolian Monster had my heart. So I divulged the details of my most recent obsession to my boyfriend, Jeremy, all the while remaining cautiously optimistic since he was usually the voice of reason within my fantastical fantasies. Well, apparently he is also a sucker for a sad story because he immediately agreed that we should meet him.

We headed to S.A.I.N.T.S to meet Chance on the Sunday after my obsession began. I was sure that I had adequately prepared myself to walk away from him if need be, but I had not. When I first stepped into the non-functioning kitchen at the shelter, small- and medium-sized dogs cavorted about at my feet, distracting me from the commotion at the other end of the room. There he was, the Mongolian Monster, getting one of his twice weekly baths (his favourite pastime next to bullying big dogs and being pampered like a baby).

He was just as I dreamed he would be, except that he was bald from the waist down, not a good look for a dog, in my opinion, especially one with chicken legs. But I was love-struck all the same. We set off on a tour of the grounds, learning more about the shelter and their fostering program, as well as Chance’s medical history and behavioural issues. Aside from the obvious physical setback, he also suffered from an unknown allergy which caused skin issues, and he had developed a sore as a result of his dragging. These were all easy fixes though, not nearly enough to scare off the owner of high maintenance mongrels. As for the “Mongolian Monster” moniker, I didn’t see it. This dog appeared to be nothing but cordial and sweet, even a bit of a suck (he was hand fed on a daily basis).

You can imagine my surprise when Carol told me about the call she received from the vet asking if they would like to euthanize the dog she thought was as charming as he was cute! Could there be two paraplegic Pekingese at the same vet on the same day? Nope. Apparently, the vet had been fortunate enough to be the one to discover Chance’s EXTREME dislike for medical treatment of any kind; he spat, snapped, growled…in short, threw a major hissy fit. Shocking, yes, but a deal breaker, no. Not even if he’s had to wear a cat muzzle on more than one occasion.

So that was it. Carol, my boyfriend, and I collectively decided that our home would be the right one for Chance. I was about to take being overwhelmed to a whole other level. As we began loading all of Chance’s belongings into our car (diapers, blankets, beds, and, best of all, a pink stroller) I began to really understand the gravity of the situation we had just gotten ourselves into. At least it wasn’t a baby.

Our first few days with Chance have been relatively calm. He was at ease in our home right from the start, and seemed to have formed some sort of testosterone-fueled kinship with Jeremy. Sure, he likes me, but Jeremy is his partner in crime–wherever Jeremy is, Chance is. I had filled myself with these grandiose visions of being his one true mommy, when all he was looking for was a daddy. At least I can be his second favourite.

PS: Chance celebrated his ninth birthday on May 31st, his first day in our home.

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