Jack

My husband and I met long before the explosion of online dating sites and apps. Do you remember when people placed personal ads in the newspaper? Yes, it was that long ago. But no, we didn't meet that way either. We met organically through our shared interest in running. 
 
Now married for almost 22 years, we adopted our first dog. 
 
I know it would be hard to meet a dog organically, so I created an account on one of the more well-known pet adoption sites—rows and rows of photos of big brown eyes, crooked half-grins, and floppy ears. We started out looking at poodles and poodle mixes, then expanded our search to include the Yorkie, Shih Tzu, Lhasa Apso, Bichon Frise, and the like. 
 
Mike first fell in love with Trevor, a gangly senior poodle with a stuffed monkey for a sidekick. We filled out an application but were quickly told that we live outside of that particular rescue group's adoption area. 
 
Then came Bobbie, a cute little Shih Tzu mix with a fiery personality. Once again, we filled out a lengthy application akin to applying for a mortgage or getting a security clearance. A week or so later, we received an email from the rescue letting us know that Bobbie had received 100 applications. As it turned out, we were among the top ten, but alas, Bobbie went to a different family. 
 
We met Mustang (a blind, senior poodle) and Queenie (a somewhat curvy Bichon Frise with unusually short legs and gingivitis) at a local shelter. We could have adopted either of them on the spot but ultimately decided that neither would blend well into our active lifestyle. 
 
Soon I was spending way too much time scrolling through the pet adoption website. Mike and I expanded our search area to include states up and down the East Coast. There were so many dogs to choose from; instead of the myriad possibilities being freeing, it was paralyzing. Scroll, click, scroll click. Weeks went by when we couldn't seem to make a decision. 
 
Until one day, a four-year-old Lhasa Apso mix popped up at another local shelter. Gone are the days when you could show up at an animal shelter and browse the cages, all thanks to COVID-19. Now everything is by appointment only. It several days and many voicemails to finally reach someone at the shelter to schedule a time to meet Jack. 
 
On the day of our meeting, Mike and I waited at a picnic bench for a staff member to bring Jack out to greet us. At first blush, Jack didn't seem all that interested in us. Until, of course, the staff member handed me a treat to give him. Soon Jack was in my lap. At that point, I was a done; Jack had stolen my heart that quickly (queue Survivor's 1985 hit, The Search is Over). Yes, the search was indeed over. We brought Jack home a week later and haven't looked back.

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