Never one to resist temptation (see: empty vending machine row of chili-cheese fritos at work), four days after I first had the less-than-brilliant idea to look at the adoptable dogs page at Anti-Cruelty Society’s website, I checked back just one more time. I had to see if she was still there. At this point, I was certainly NOT entertaining the idea of adopting Nadine of the wonky tongue and off-center eyeball. I was concerned, that’s all, I told myself. Nadine couldn’t end up at the shelter all alone and unadopted, but I would certainly not going to adopt her myself. Yet, I really wanted to meet this little bundle of broken bits. Just to see her in person. But that’s all. Absolutely nothing more.
I called my sage friend Melissa who has a dog herself and is the mensa to my short bus. If anything, I knew she would put me in my place. I emailed her the picture of Nadine and called her to see if she would go visit this pup at ACS that evening. I explained clearly that I only wanted to meet the dog to see her personality. I figured having Melissa with me would ensure that I would walk out sans chien. Maybe I’m a genius after all, eh?
Did I mention I was leaving in 6 days for a two-week vacation in Spain? So really, there was my excuse to avoid adopting a dog that day – just looking, I told myself. (It’s like a superpower – Self-Deceit Girl!) Melissa was my accomplice on the Spain trip and, as someone not afraid to call people out for being idiots, the perfect guard against stupidity.
She wouldn’t even go to ACS with me. Cruel friend! Instead, she repeated again and again, “Don’t go unless you prepared to go home with a dog tonight.” Did she not hear a word I said? I just wanted to MEET Nadine…not leave with her! Sheesh. Whaddareya, deaf?
No, not deaf. As I said, she’s just reeaal smart. She knows that dog powers (e.g. longing eyes, wagging tails, whimpers and kisses) are 10x more powerful than anything Superman’s got. Begrudgingly, I put down the phone and sulked. Fine. I won’t go to the shelter. Melissa’s right. It’s a crazy idea; I’m way too weak to leave Nadine there. I would walk out with her, which is impossible as I’m leaving for Spain in one week! Nope. I just have to be strong and assume someone else will adopt my dog. I mean, that dog!
My modus operandi when I’m sad is to call my Mom. Moms love their depressed daughters calling with piddly little problems, right? Totally. Linda would reassure me and back up Melissa’s wise, albeit very annoying, statement. Or so I thought…
I called my sage friend Melissa who has a dog herself and is the mensa to my short bus. If anything, I knew she would put me in my place. I emailed her the picture of Nadine and called her to see if she would go visit this pup at ACS that evening. I explained clearly that I only wanted to meet the dog to see her personality. I figured having Melissa with me would ensure that I would walk out sans chien. Maybe I’m a genius after all, eh?
Did I mention I was leaving in 6 days for a two-week vacation in Spain? So really, there was my excuse to avoid adopting a dog that day – just looking, I told myself. (It’s like a superpower – Self-Deceit Girl!) Melissa was my accomplice on the Spain trip and, as someone not afraid to call people out for being idiots, the perfect guard against stupidity.
She wouldn’t even go to ACS with me. Cruel friend! Instead, she repeated again and again, “Don’t go unless you prepared to go home with a dog tonight.” Did she not hear a word I said? I just wanted to MEET Nadine…not leave with her! Sheesh. Whaddareya, deaf?
No, not deaf. As I said, she’s just reeaal smart. She knows that dog powers (e.g. longing eyes, wagging tails, whimpers and kisses) are 10x more powerful than anything Superman’s got. Begrudgingly, I put down the phone and sulked. Fine. I won’t go to the shelter. Melissa’s right. It’s a crazy idea; I’m way too weak to leave Nadine there. I would walk out with her, which is impossible as I’m leaving for Spain in one week! Nope. I just have to be strong and assume someone else will adopt my dog. I mean, that dog!
My modus operandi when I’m sad is to call my Mom. Moms love their depressed daughters calling with piddly little problems, right? Totally. Linda would reassure me and back up Melissa’s wise, albeit very annoying, statement. Or so I thought…
Yes, Moms love their daughters to call with silly problems. My Mom calls them "designer problems".
ReplyDeleteNadine is wonderful, but I do think she has a drug dependency you should address down the road.
xoxo