July 11, 2003 was a Friday, and on that morning, I drove out to my vetâ€™s office where Iâ€™d arranged to meet a 2 or 3-year-old shelter dog.Â Iâ€™d really fallen for her picture in an ad from the rescue group hoping to place her, and Iâ€™d called about her a month earlier.
They returned my call, telling me the bad news that sheâ€™d already been placed.
(Okay, bad news for me.)
Something about her photo had just grabbed me, and I was more than a little disappointed that Iâ€™d missed her.Â So I set the newspaper aside and figured Iâ€™d give myself some time before looking again.
About a month later, I picked up the paper and opened it to the classified section where lots of the rescue groups advertised.Â There was that same picture of her again!Â I called the shelter, telling them that I was assuming there was an error with the photo, but wanted to double-check.
It turned out that there was no error:Â the family that had adopted this shy, timid dog had young children who expected to come home from school and play with their new dog.Â The problem was that she was so timid that the kids terrorized her.Â So that placement just didnâ€™t work out.
I made an appointment to meet her, and took along my other dog to make sure theyâ€™d get along.Â After a relatively short meeting, Zoey was on her way home with me, where sheâ€™s been ever since.
When animal control found her, she had two young puppies with her.Â The puppies looked like golden furballs and were gorgeous.Â But as often happens at animal shelters everywhere, the puppies went quickly:Â few people want an adult dog.
Sheâ€™s been a great dog, and I hope sheâ€™ll be around for many more years to come.Â The best guess now is that sheâ€™s somewhere between eight and nine years old.Â I donâ€™t like to think about her getting old, but at least sheâ€™s active (when sheâ€™ll leave the couch), healthy and happy.
I think a trip to the pet shop is in order:Â she needs a new toy!