I'm sure I've written plenty of posts on Jack, the most perfect dog in all the world. Jack passed away a few years ago and I didn't think I'd ever get over that enough to consider a new dog. In Jack's honor, about a year after he died, I began volunteering at the same shelter he came from. My job was dog walker, but it quickly morphed to dog shopper.
I examined every dog I met to see if they seemed like a potential member of the family. It didn't just stop at the shelter. On outings at dog-friendly locales, I would approach total strangers in order to engage with their dogs. One exasperated friend once remarked, "You REALLY need to get your own dog."
Most of the shelter dogs were not anyone I would want to bring home. In fact, all it took was a snarl, an annoying bark, or jumping up when I entered their enclosure to make me turn up my nose and move on to the next dog in the cellblock. No walk for you, Cujo!
I finally determined that I needed to lower my standards. NO dog would ever live up to the incredible mark Jack left on our family. Eventually, I found a dog that I liked just okay so I dragged my husband (a cat person) to the local pet store where adoptions take place. These events are chaotic at best. Not the best environment to meet a new bosom buddy, close friend, lifelong pal. There are young children running around, dogs barking, yipping, and even a little peeing on the floor.
There in the middle of the fray lay a long, fluffy, black dog, sleepily taking it all in. And just like that, we both instantly knew we had found our new dog. You'd think this would have been an easy process for a volunteer and previous adopter, but we were subject to an interview process where we learned that someone named Olga would also be vying for Cookie.
I took this time to talk to Cookie's foster mom, all the while avoiding looking at the adorable dog. I didn't want to get too attached. (I had missed out on another dog a few months earlier - his adoption came down to 3 names being pulled from a hat. Not exactly the way it happens on TV.) I inquired about Cookie's origins, and talked about how much we loved our faithful Jack.
The shelter interviewer and foster mom led Cookie towards another part of the store to meet Olga. I steeled myself to have to undergo the torture of another dog raffle, but to my delight, they returned one minute later, handed me the leash, and told me to take my dog home. They told Olga she had missed the interview window.
Cookie quickly became Zuzu - based on a character from my favorite movie. And she really IS a character. I had a brief period of guilt in replacing Jack, but I think he would have wanted me to move on, and I'm fairly certain they would have been good friends.