To the Rescue

"You need to look at this puppy I found on Petfinder," my wife said. " His name is Tiger."

Having decided to get a dog my wife took it as her mission to search out the various rescue services to find a likely dog for adoption. She saw this dog as the best hope to get me off the sofa and out doing regular exercise to get my weight and blood pressure under control. As my spouse for over 30 years she knew my resileance and dedication once I send myself off on a course of action. The issue is to get me sent off. Procrastination is also one of my many vices.

I sat at the computer and looked at the picture posted by the NJ Collie Rescue & Referral organization in Whitehouse New Jersey. Staring at me were these two large brown eyes centered in a halo of fur. The puppy had a black nose and floppy ears and an innocent look that only a baby could present to the world. From the picture it was puzzling to determine why the dog was given such an unusual name as Tiger.

My hesitations disappeared in an instant. "That's the one," I exclaimed." Let's contact them right away."

Impulsiveness is another one of my endearing traits. Would you be surprised that I was a Gemini? I watched intently as my wife sent an e-mail to the people in Whitehouse.

It took a day for them to respond. We called the number they sent and filled out the questionnaire sent to us. I liked the fact that they were being careful in determining who they were dealing with for the adoption. I don't know what the passing grade is for approval but within another day we were okayed and we made arrangements to visit the shelter and check out Tiger. If we should adopt there would be a $200 fee.

We planned a drive out midweek. There was a restaurant near Whitehouse we wanted to try so we thought we would visit the shelter, decide if we wanted Tiger, make arrangements to pick him up the following Saturday and then have a celebratory dinner at the The Ryland Inn.

Wednesday we left early from work for our a leisurely drive out to the country to check out our prospective dog and then our pleasant meal before returning to the city. We would have a few days to get the apartment organized with a crate, dog food and bowls and a nice selection of toys for the new puppy. Maybe I'd have enough time to have another discussion with Gus. A very relaxing, civilized approach to the adoption of our first dog.

Leaving the interstate we had no difficulty finding the shelter. It was actually a single family home at the end of a quiet, narrow country road with a large cyclone fence surrounding the backyard. The yard itself was also divided by an additional cyclone fence which divided the yard into a private living area and a dog habitat with kennels and a pack of collies, shepherds and mixes running up and down, over stimulated by our arrival and the game they were also playing, a form of pick on the littlest guy who happened to be Tiger. He had grown since his picture had been posted on Pet Finder but we still easily recognized him. He was about eight weeks old. The swarm of dogs ran over him and just as he bounced up and got his balance back they would run over him again. Tiger was thrilled. He barked after each stampede left him rolling and seemed to be inviting more of the same. The older female dogs kept grabbing his muzzle to correct his over-exurberance. He looked up at them joyously.

Vicki came up to us and introduced herself. She was the founder of the NJ Collie Rescue and Referral organization. She had travelled to West Virginia to rescue Tiger and his mother from a " kill " shelter. It seems she traveled up and down the East Coast saving dogs. Her organization was funded by donations and the fees she charged for adopting dogs from the shelter.

" it's too bad you weren't here earlier," she said. " Tiger's mother was just adopted a few days ago. She was a two year old Sheperd mix." It seems the definition of Collie was quite broad from the point of view of rescue, gratefully so.

She lead us towards Tiger. The other dogs parted warily as we came closer. Tiger stood his ground, half crouched, tail wagging.

I placed my hand out for him to smell, all the books tell you to do this, and he licked it. I reached down and petted him. He continued to lick my hand. I rolled him over on his back; this was meant to tell us if he would be aggressive or not. If he stayed on his back he was more passive or Beta. If he struggled and tried to right himself immediately he was more aggressive or Alpha. Tiger did neither. Instead he rolled on his side and looked up with big brown eyes and the expectation of some reward. Maybe he was hoping to be trampled again.

It was the eyes that got to me. They were deep brown, liquid and so pure looking. I was reminded of the moment I fell in love with my wife. Her eyes were light blue, the color of opals and once I looked into them I was committed. I wanted to bathe in them forever, just as I was at that moment when she looked up at me and smiled. Tiger's eyes also enveloped you with purity and trust. You wanted to love him because you could see love mirrored back at you. And he was beautiful with a medium brown brindle coat. Calling him Tiger was like calling a Dalmation Spot.

My wife and I didn't even speak. We just looked at each other and smiled. I reached for my checkbook. That's when we received the first of many surprises we have experienced since becoming dog owners. It seems buyers remorse is rampant in dog adoption. Even people who leave money don't come back for the dog they promised to adopt. Meanwhile checks are stopped before they can be cashed. If we wanted Tiger we had to take him now or there would be no promises about his availability on Saturday.

What choice did we have? A beat up old crate was found and Tiger was corralled and placed into it before he knew what was happening to him. Check provided, hands shook and we were off with a new puppy cradled between us in the front seat, a tiny whimper coming from inside the crate.