The following is a continued segment of The Missy Times story, "Finding Rawly":
Although I was missing the meet-and-greet with Stewart, I still had hope that I would find a dog that weekend. Near my sister's house was a puppy and kitten shelter called "Love at First Sight". Love at First Sight takes young animals from local people whose pets have had unexpected litters and gives them a chance to be adopted. "Maybe you'll find your puppy here!" Maria always told me. Wouldn't that be just perfect, I thought to myself.
The night we arrived in Nashville we stopped and looked in the shop's window. The cinder-block walls were a soft purple and the floors a clean white tile. The light from the parking lot fell across the floor, onto the little crates where the puppies were sleeping. I could see their furry bodies rhythmically moving up and down as they dozed. One even lifted his head and looked at us. I was giddy from head to toe. Collie/Beagle mixes? Brown Feists? No one could tear me away from that window. I could feel it inside. One of these might be "The One". We agreed to come back the next day to meet them, and reluctantly, I walked back to the car.
The next 24 hours were a whirlwind at best. Decisions were made and details worked out. First the family wasn't sure if they wanted to break the contract they'd made with veterinary hospital. Then the kids were hesitant to send the puppy so far away. Then we weren't sure if nine hours in the car would be good for Caleb. Then the mother mentioned a bacteria infection he'd had less than a week before. But in the end, it was unanimous. The dog would come home with the Koshute family. I was so excited, finally, we'd found our dog.
Sunday morning we went to visit with Caleb's family one last time before picking him up; what we saw was amazing. We saw him through new eyes. He would not stop running around our ankles, licking our feet or jumping up. His face was not as cute as I'd remembered, and deep down in my heart there was an awful twinge of doubt. My father, already in disbelief that we were actually getting a dog, looked like he was going to faint. Driving back to Maria's apartment, Mom turned to me and said, "Missy, are you sure that's the dog for you?" I knew it wasn't.
Dejected and discouraged, though oddly at peace, I packed up my things to go home. Mom called Caleb's owner and told her the news. We were back to square one. No dog.
Then I remembered Stewart-- was he still available? I checked Petfinder, and indeed, he was. A call to the shelter and we had our appointment for that following Wednesday. My spirits were lifted. I'd asked the Lord that if Stewart was the right dog, would He please save him for us? And he did. He'd guided us out of choosing Caleb and led us back to Stewart. Perhaps he was meant for me after all!
Although I was missing the meet-and-greet with Stewart, I still had hope that I would find a dog that weekend. Near my sister's house was a puppy and kitten shelter called "Love at First Sight". Love at First Sight takes young animals from local people whose pets have had unexpected litters and gives them a chance to be adopted. "Maybe you'll find your puppy here!" Maria always told me. Wouldn't that be just perfect, I thought to myself.
The night we arrived in Nashville we stopped and looked in the shop's window. The cinder-block walls were a soft purple and the floors a clean white tile. The light from the parking lot fell across the floor, onto the little crates where the puppies were sleeping. I could see their furry bodies rhythmically moving up and down as they dozed. One even lifted his head and looked at us. I was giddy from head to toe. Collie/Beagle mixes? Brown Feists? No one could tear me away from that window. I could feel it inside. One of these might be "The One". We agreed to come back the next day to meet them, and reluctantly, I walked back to the car.
So Saturday morning we headed off to Love at First Sight-- wait, no, scratch that. FIRST we went to mass at the nearby St. Cecilia motherhouse; THEN we went to Maria's farmers market. That's where the next important event in this story takes place. As we made our way around the booths, each filled with abundant produce: radishes, pumpkins, kale, tomatoes, etc., I had my eyes peeled for puppies, because after all, they were on my mind. And one suddenly appeared out of nowhere! A woman was standing with her little beagle- mix puppy, a ten-week old named Caleb whom she had adopted from Love at First Sight! I petted him, let him lick my face and marveled at just how good-natured he was. Naturally my heart skipped a beat when I was informed the dog needed a new home. A new home..... daughter was allergic......really good dog......, these were the words I picked out of the conversation. All thoughts of Stewart and those sweet puppies at Love at First Sight left my mind. It was 'love at first sight', and I wanted this pooch! Caleb seemed like a true God-send-- what was the chance we would meet this woman who just happened to be there with her dog whom she needed to re-home? We wouldn't have to go through the whole adoption process; he was already crate and semi-house trained; and had a good start to his life. He wasn't quite the puppy I'd had in mind for myself, but I loved him. And it was meant to be, right?
The next 24 hours were a whirlwind at best. Decisions were made and details worked out. First the family wasn't sure if they wanted to break the contract they'd made with veterinary hospital. Then the kids were hesitant to send the puppy so far away. Then we weren't sure if nine hours in the car would be good for Caleb. Then the mother mentioned a bacteria infection he'd had less than a week before. But in the end, it was unanimous. The dog would come home with the Koshute family. I was so excited, finally, we'd found our dog.
Sunday morning we went to visit with Caleb's family one last time before picking him up; what we saw was amazing. We saw him through new eyes. He would not stop running around our ankles, licking our feet or jumping up. His face was not as cute as I'd remembered, and deep down in my heart there was an awful twinge of doubt. My father, already in disbelief that we were actually getting a dog, looked like he was going to faint. Driving back to Maria's apartment, Mom turned to me and said, "Missy, are you sure that's the dog for you?" I knew it wasn't.
Dejected and discouraged, though oddly at peace, I packed up my things to go home. Mom called Caleb's owner and told her the news. We were back to square one. No dog.
Then I remembered Stewart-- was he still available? I checked Petfinder, and indeed, he was. A call to the shelter and we had our appointment for that following Wednesday. My spirits were lifted. I'd asked the Lord that if Stewart was the right dog, would He please save him for us? And he did. He'd guided us out of choosing Caleb and led us back to Stewart. Perhaps he was meant for me after all!
Stay tuned for the next and final installment of Rawly's story!
