Gotcha Day - August 7, 1993

In 1993 I graduated college and began searching harder for a dog than a job. I wanted to adopt from a shelter but I wanted to make sure I found the right match. The perfect dog for me would be small enough to handle but also athletic and able to run with me. Unfortunately I found plenty of dogs to choose from. Most of the shelters really knew there dogs and were very helpful trying to find a match for me - they wanted their adoptions to work out.

Not all shelters were that responsible, and each shelter had a different set of policies. I found a great dog at one - a black male with white socks and a white snout - who just loved me, jumping all over me and licking me. I decided to put a deposit on him and hopefully pick him up the next day since I was on my way to work. The shelter did not take deposits though. I went to work rather than drop him off at my place to spend his first hours with me alone. At the end of the work day I called; he was still available! They opened the next day at noon and I was there waiting. The woman at the door recognized me and led me back to my dog's cage, but he wasn't there. They had taken him to a flea market that morning. I was upset and they knew it. Why didn't they call? I could've gone to the flea market early. Instead I rushed to the market late only to find the dog was gone. I had a room waiting for him but they gave him to someone visiting a flea market.

As upset as I was perhaps things happen for a reason. On my way home from the flea market I saw a small sign pointing the way to an animal shelter. I had not been to this one and had not seen it advertised anywhere. It was very small and was only open 1-2 hours a day, and it happened to be open then. There were very few cages and they were all open to the outside. I wondered what winter was like there. In cage #7 I barely saw a shadow cowering in the corner, but I could see eyes looking at me. I felt the dog, a female, wanted to come see me but was afraid. At the front desk I asked the woman about "the little black dog" but was not allowed to see her since she had just been brought to the shelter. I would have to wait a week.

One week later the woman at the shelter called to see if I was still interested in the dog. When I got to the shelter the woman seemed to think I was already set on adopting her before ever really seeing her! Being shy myself I did not speak up and just signed the papers. I decided that if Sadie wasn't the right dog for me I would take her to a place that gave her the proper attention. Of course that was not necessary. The little black shadow that came to be my Sadie crawled out of her cage when the door opened and I could see how much she wanted to be loved.