A question of adoption

I think I have come to the realization that I am not ready to get another dog yet.

A couple of weeks ago I had been feeling so bad and missing Jersey so much that I got a crazy thought.  If I got another dog, maybe it would make me feel better.  It would give me something to truly engage in.  It would allow me the chance to move on.  It may even help ease the loss I had been feeling so keenly.

It's probably not such a good idea at this point.

I had actually started looking for animal shelters to visit where I might visit with some dogs that needed a home.  Both Jersey and Tellie had come from a shelter.  I have rescued other dogs.  The experience I had with each of them has been exceptional. There is something about a dog who has been rescued.  It's almost as if they know they have been saved from a certain death and celebrate for the rest of their lives, paying it back by giving unwavering love and loyalty.

My mind is boggled by how many abandoned animals there are.  I guess people who turn in a pet have their reasons, it's not for me to judge.  I also guess some dogs legitimately get loose from their homes. They can't find their way back and end up in a dog catcher's truck only to be taken to the local animal shelter.  I'm not sure why their owners wouldn't try to find them.  The only thing I do know is that there are kennels filled with dogs and cats who feel unloved and unwanted.  They deeply feel it.  All it takes is a look into their eyes to see how sad they are; to see how much they are meant to be with a pack they can call their own.  They incredible sadness they feel, to me, is heartbreaking.

Puppies don't necessarily know the difference.  They're goofy and carefree, full of rough and tumbles, nips and growls; as long as they are with the brothers and sisters they may have come in with.
 Isolation is a terrible thing.  It is used as a form of punishment in a prison and is meant to have a psychological effect to make a prisoner act in a certain way.  It is the same thing with a dog, be it puppy or adult in a shelter.  Being alone in a kennel is isolation and is always devastating. An animal bred to be a companion for a human being and is now alone in a cage has only one way to go if it's not adopted and it's not a nice place.

Over the weekend we visited a couple of shelters.  One was a county facility.  The staff there were very caring and concerned about getting their animals good homes.  We walked into the room where the kennels where and I was greeted by a sense of helplessness.  Maybe I'm too sensitive or am a sap for a dog looking at me with pleading eyes to take them home.  As much as I try to be stoic, almost unfeeling, I still come away with a tremendous sense of sadness.

It was obvious the animals were well cared for.  Each kennel had a cot with a blanket and toys to play with.  They had plenty of water and the cages were clean.  No signs of poop or pee.

As expected the puppies were excited, the older dogs wagged there tails when touched and spoken to but looked like they had experienced it all before. They know the drill.  A person walks by their cage, squats down, sticks their fingers through the fence and tells the dog what a good girl she is and how pretty she is.  Then, they walk away.

We took a quick walk through and left.  Our dog wasn't there.

The other shelter we visited was a non profit, no kill shelter.  It was staffed solely by volunteers who clearly knew each animal and could tell you about the personality and particular traits of each.

I was blown away by the number of people on line to adopt.  It was obvious these animals would find good forever homes.

Bottom line to all this is that I really started thinking about why I wanted another dog and the question came down to this:  was I truly interested in giving a good home to an abandoned animal? Was I ready to fall in love and develop a life with a new friend?  Or was I looking to find a substitute for Jersey.

Each dog we visited with, each puppy I let climb on me, each puppy that nipped at my beard and mouthed my hand with their little, sharp, needle teeth I compared to Jersey.  I asked myself whether they would be a good protector, like Jersey; would they love me, like Jersey; would they be a big and powerful presence, like Jersey; would they be Jersey.  They answer was no.  None of them were Jersey.

And that's why I think I've decided I'm not ready.  Each puppy, each dog has to be judged and seen on it's own merit.  They cannot be compared to my Jerz. It's unfair and doesn't honor their personalities and their unique characteristics. 

If I was to adopt an animal now it would only be because I so desperately want to find what I've lost and I have to get to the point where I realize Jersey will never be replaced, never.

Until then, as much as I would love to adopt all the dogs in shelters, I can't.  Any pup that comes home with me needs to be loved for who it is and not because of its similarity to Jersey  There will never be another like her. When I fully understand that, I'll be ready.