Gimme shelter
Recently, I managed to talk Paul, through a complicated series of deceptions and lies that we held together by flimsy logic and flimsier morals, into adding a dog to our overcrowded abode. We already have an undisclosed number of cats living in an equally secret location (our apartment) and I am, regretfully, a packrat and somehow manage to occupy many different spaces at the same time. Despite our ever-shrinking living arrangement, I think the prospect of having an able-bodied running partner instead of my lame, arthritic stride appealed to his more practical senses. After only a few days of prodding and lingering looks and promises of great fun yet unknown, Paul complied. We went to Town Lake Animal Shelter with the hope of finding a small, yet exciting new friend to be our dog. We were quickly approved as “adopters” and began looking at the different dogs that they had to offer. We were taken by the a few little dachsies that were abandoned by a breeder, but there was also this sweet-looking border collie mix in the stray area with kind eyes. We made our interest known on the sweet-looking stray collie and one of the dachshunds. No one had shown interest in either of the dogs, but the collie had been at the shelter longer.
Then, we waited, for behavior evaluations, medical exams, and an adoptability determination. Both dogs were healthy, we could come down to the shelter and interact with them, whenever we were available. We trekked down the same day. The dachsie, Contessa, was lovely. A real “people” dog. We petted her and played with her, and then we decided to look at the border collie mix. By this time, the shelter staff had determined that he was mostly Italian Greyhound mixed with collie. It was hard to interact with him that first meeting. He was terrified of all of the noise in the shelter and would shy away from us when we extended our hands for him to smell. Three minutes of coaxing and olfactory investigation later, he was comfortably leashed and leading us out into the play area. We took the leash off and tried to interest him in some fetch or some petting, but he was still terrified. His little body shook every time a dog barked. He began to warm up to Paul a bit and let me pet his head. Then, the true test. I picked him up and gently placed him on my lap. Sniffing, no biting, no crying, no barking. He stopped shaking and contentedly sat on our lap. I told Paul that I thought this could be our dog. I guessed that the poor thing was just so overwhelmed by shelter life that he couldn’t be affectionate.
Now, all we had left to do was decide on a name. ”Colby?” I suggested.”No, that sounds like the cheese. What about something geographical, like Manhattan Transfer?”"No, dog names have to be short and have clear consonants. You can’t shout ‘C’mere Manhattan Transfer!’ and expect the dog to listen. You lost him at ‘hat’.”Fast forward through two days of Paul tormenting me with crazy names, we finally arrived at Tobin. We picked up our Tobin and he slept on my lap the whole way home.
I was right about his temperment; once he was out of the craze of the shelter he was just a skinny little dog who was desperate for some humans. Tobin sleeps at the end of our bed. He tackles me when I come home from work. He snuggles up between us on the couch. When we take him off his leash, he runs laps around the complex courtyard at top speed. He learned his name and learned how to conquer apartment complex stairs all on the first day. Tobin was already housebroken and was quite content to watch reruns of Sherlock Holmes while dozing on my lap. We are only a week into our canine stewardship and I can’t imagine a day going by without looking at his sweet little face. I’m really pleased with the whole adoption process from TLAC. The staff really cares about getting good animals adopted into good homes. Paul is just as taken with him as I am. Adopt a shelter dog. Most of them just want to be loved. The second day we had him, Paul said that the night before, when he had slept snuggled between our legs on the bed, was probably the best night of his life. It probably was and it’s only going to get better, little guy.
