Going, Going Gone

Last week my husband and I decided to get serious about helping Tulo get adopted. So, I sassed up his bio, gave him a good scrubbing Friday night, and set out Saturday morning to spend the whole day at the adoption clinic.
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Well, I don’t know if it was the really good bath or being there to chat with anyone who even glanced in his direction, but three different families put in applications to adopt Tulo. The first was a sweet little family of three looking for a companion for their one year old son, but they live in an apartment, so I wasn’t too thrilled about that match.

Then, a man, let’s call him Beck, came all in a rush asking about him because his ‘roommate’ had seen Tulo from the road and just fallen in love with him. They live in a great big house, with a great big back yard, doggie doors, the works, but they have a 90 lb black lab mix and if I haven’t mentioned it before, Tulo doesn’t like big dogs.  So, I wasn’t thrilled about that match. Beck filled out an application and was so eager, he wanted to do the home visit and meet and greet as soon as possible. (A meet and greet is when a potential adoptee is introduced to an already established family dog.) So, I got the powers that be together. Lanya, who runs the PACA adoption clinics every Saturday, hooked me up with Jean, who knows a lot about dogs and frequently does meet and greets with new dogs and we scheduled a home visit and meet and greet for that afternoon.

Next up was this couple right on the edge of retiring came to look at him and thought he was just the sweetest thing (which he is). They thought it was endearing that he is timid and were just looking for a companion dog to go on walks with and keep them company when they were rumbling around their house. This sounded perfect.

But of course, they weren’t sure because they’re getting ready to do some renovations on the house, and she hasn’t retired just yet and what if he gets lonely because he would be an only dog? Well, I coaxed them into filling out an application just in case and hoped that they would soon call and say they’d decided to take him. Off they went.

Three o’clock rolled around, so Jean and I set off to Beck’s house. Turns out, he lives in a gorgeous neighborhood just this side of the river. Quiet closed in neighborhood, long, winding driveway, four car garage, five bedroom house, adobe enclosed backyard, etc. This is the doggie jack pot.

Jean and I spent the next hour and a half slowly introducing Tulo to the black lab, Ollie, the two and half year old, the five year old, the giant house, the backyard, the adults, the neighborhood, etc. Of course, he wanted to follow me wherever I went, but my primary goal was simply to make sure that Tulo and Ollie were going to get along okay. It was also important to me that the adults Beck and the woman, let’s call her Sally, understood that Tulo needs a crate, and really, when I say he’ll only eat hot dogs has treats, I mean it. Give him hot dogs; he will be your best friend.

Even as I prepared to leave Tulo behind, I was still nervous about the situation. And Sally started to cry. She didn’t want Tulo to be sad, afraid, or upset once I left. She wanted to know what she could do to help him.

And that’s when I stopped worrying. Right then I knew that he would be loved and this woman would do everything in her power to make sure he had a good life. And if it didn’t work out, she wouldn’t hesitate to call me and let me know.

Jean and I took a sneaky escape out the side yard so Tulo wouldn’t see me leave and I made it to the main road before I burst into tears. I gave away my dog, which is exactly how I felt until 11am this morning, when I got a phone call from Jean. She had called Sally to tell her a few more things that she had forgotten to mention on Saturday and during the call had gotten information on how Tulo is doing. He is following Sally everywhere, stuck to her like glue, sleeping in the same dog bed with all 90 lbs of Ollie and loving his two walks a day. I cried again.

I am so happy for him. Before he came to stay with us, he was an un-groomed, frantic, panicky mess. Without his time here, it’s possible he never would have been adopted. Now he has the skills he needs to manage the world as part of a pack and truly enjoy the rest of his life.

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My patchy eskimo has found a wonderful home. He’ll be missed.
To learn more about adopting rescue animals and fostering, like we did for Tulo, visit the NM PACA Website.
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