I want a (well-trained) dog

I got this e-mail from a friend of a friend of a friend about Parker, and it was off to the races. I've been thinking and talking about getting a dog for years, but only have been more seriously considering getting myself one for my birthday over the past few weeks. I had a conversation with a friend who's one of my most trusted advisors--and also a dog person--on a Tuesday morning, and later that day the e-mail about Parker (named because he was a stray from the park) showed up in my inbox. I took one look and him and thought, maybe that's my dog! I've never been sure about adopting a recsue dog but it now seems the only way to go. Parker had everything I was looking for--he was mid-size, friendly and eager, athletic, short-haired, and friendly to cats (I have one--Cecilia). So I decided to suspend all better judgment about this Pitbull/Rhodesian Ridgeback mix until I met him.

I took two of my most trusted dog savvy friends, Jared and Sacha, out to Roxborough to visit Parker at his foster parents'. I liked Scott and Keith right away, and Parker was just as cute as in his photos--if not cuter. He was energetic and friendly, with his enormous tongue flopping all over and an eagerness to get up in your lap. I handed him the rawhide bone I'd brought him and in instantly accepted the gesture and settled in on the couch with it. I also thought he was incredibly calm for a one-year-old un-neutered male pitbull mix who was in a strange home with another dog and--at the moment--seven unknown adults, all in the same small space. He'd been shuttled around a fair amount but over the past week, after wandering out of the woods in Upper Darby and into Melissa's back yard, then to a shelter, then to another shelter that walked him, and now to Scott and Keith's.

I loved him instantly, but we also had a little moment where I was patting his hindquarters and he turned around and snapped at me. Not in a way that scared me he was going to bite, just a warning that he didn't like it. And it started to sink in that this guy's abuse history--evident from the handful of scars all over his face and back--were a factor. We went out back and he bounded from person to person, happily sniffing and licking and tugging on toys. Melissa, who'd found him and spent the most time with him, talked about how tired he was. I loved his looks but was trying to get a sense of how we were together. It was hard, because he seemed more comfortable with Melissa, who also had two big dogs of her own and was one of those effortless dog people who knows how to interact with them on their level. It made me see that I'm more of a cat owner who aspires to make the leap to dog. Like someone who's not used to toddlers spending time with a mother. I sort of felt out of my element, and it made me wonder whether or not I was the right human for Parker. He clearly needed someone very good and strong to overcome his backstory, and I wasn't sure that I was up to it. But he was so adorable I wanted to give it another go. I asked if I could come back the next morning and take him for a walk in the Wissahickon. (Ten years ago I used to dogsit for my friends' German Shorthaired Pointers--Rhubarb and Zucchini--in just this neighborhood, and it seemed like a good way for he and I to get to know each other.)

That night I went to the rodeo with my friends and couldn't stop talking about him, although I think it was largely because I was trying to sort out my feelings about wanting him but being sort of intimidated. Sacha showed me the photos she'd taken that day (shown) and my heart just melted.

On the way to my car the next morning, I saw a new puppy on the corner with her young parents. I asked them what she was and they said pitbull-shepherd mix. Her name's Ellie and she was adorable--probably about 8 weeks. The woman said she got her from a NJ puppy rescue, and I have to admit I loved the idea of getting a rescue dog without having to miss out on the puppy part. I think what concerned me about Parker was not that he was dangerous but that every dog I've ever known or cared for was either very calm or raised from a puppy.

On Sunday morning we had an hour-long walk with my friend Julie, and he was just great. Eager to socialize with other dogs, but otherwise good on the leash and pretty calm. Still, he had some issues with me petting him behind the head, and again, I was afraid that I'd be too intimidated to train him the way that he needed. He was just a little bit flinchy on a couple of occasions, and I knew it wasn't right. It broke my heart to say goodbye to him, but I felt much better knowing that a woman who was an experienced dog owner was in line right behind me and was very anxious to get him. She also worked at an environmental rescue agency that allowed employees to bring their pets. I would have been able to have him with me in my office during the day, but he needed to be out and about with his owner as much as possible. The fact that he'd freaked out when they tried to crate him overnight also sealed the deal; he was so panicked that he got the top off the crate, and then curled right up and went to sleep. Clearly just couldn't handle being left like that, which I would have needed to do.

So I think of Parker every day--he's still the photo on my desktop--and hope he's happy in his new home. And I'm thankful that he jump-started what I'm sure will be a long process of finding my dog. Here's to you, sweet boy.