I’ve wanted to get a corgi for years. For one reason or another it was never a good time for me to own one. I realized that having a dog was a big responsibility and that I needed certain essentials in order to provide a stable and loving home for a dog. I thought I had gotten there recently.
I have my own apartment. I have a great job with steady income. I have the time and space in my life for an animal. I also am dog CPR certified. This is all I need to adopt a rescue animal, right?
Yesterday I received my second rejection from a corgi rescue. The first rejection came a few weeks ago when I was turned down for being out of area and not having a fenced-in yard. The second rejection also came for… not having a fenced-in yard. Apparently, the entire population of New York City are unfit pet owners because of a lack of a fenced-in yard.
It hit me sometime around 4am this morning mid-panic attack that I was worrying about the wrong thing. I had been spending my time beating myself up for not being wealthy enough to afford a house with a fenced-in yard and not being good enough for a rescue, all because I wanted a certain type of breed. And that’s not even what I really wanted.
I wanted a good dog. I wanted someone to exercise with and feed and snuggle with on the couch. I wanted a dog I could take to training, the beach, dog parks, Colonial Williamsburg, all to make sure he’s happy, healthy, exercised, and thriving.
I almost didn’t look at Blackberry when he was in the kennel at Virginia Beach Care and Adoption Center. I wasn’t sure if I wanted a black lab. But I had turned down another dog because he was incredibly dog aggressive, and the staff member asked me if wanted to see this dog, then named Cheerios.
Have to admit, I almost said no. But I remembered that research about regretting the things you don’t do and said yes. Blackberry walked past the other dogs in the kennel, some of which were barking aggressively, and didn’t seem bothered by any of them. One dog came to the kennel door and Blackberry licked his snout affectionately.
In the room, Blackberry was immediately interested in me and what I was doing. He brought me a toy, he wove himself between my legs, he sat for a treat, he let me pet him, and then rolled onto his back so he could get belly rubs. Looking up at him with his goofy smile, I knew this is what I wanted.
He wasn’t a corgi. He wasn’t even close to a corgi. But in that instant, nothing could have mattered less. I rescued a dog today. He will have a great home with an attentive and loving owner. That’s what matters.