Gotcha Day-Part 2
When the Adoption Counselor returned, she shoved a sheaf of paperwork at us and said something along the lines of congratulations…go up front and pay…they’ll bring her out. When they placed her in my arms at the processing desk, all 10 weeks and 12 pounds of her, I went into a deaf-mute fog until they asked us what we wanted to name her. I blurted out, “Lou Lou!” John mumbled something about we didn’t discuss this, but the chipper shelter volunteer had already pressed enter.
As we made our way to the car, me clutching Lou Lou like she was a life-preserver, it dawned upon us that we did it backwards. One should prepare before adoption, not after. This so clearly went against my nature of being prepared for every contingency that I felt a little sick.
We had nothing for a puppy, nada, zip, zero, so we drove straight to Petco on Clybourn. Once in the store, John dutifully went about procuring a crate sized for a shetland pony, food, bowls, toys and everything else we thought she needed. Almost a thousand dollars later, we felt we had enough to get started.
Welcome home, Lou Lou! by Amy Knebel
When we got home, we first worked out the logistics of a potty area in our building’s gangway and congratulated ourselves on our cleverness. No going out into the street for midnight poops for us, no sir. Next, we set up her crate, bowls and found a place for her toys. As she ran amok checking out her new home by chewing on every surface, it hit us that we needed to puppy proof the house, which for people with no children took quite a bit of time. We dutifully read the crate training tips that accompanied her crate and discussed our night shift/day shift roles. Hey, maybe we didn’t do any advance prep, but we were gaining on it.
After a last potty trip outside, we climbed in bed and listened to every noise she made in her crate placed in the hall outside our bedroom door. Sleeping in yoga pants and sweats, I set the timer for two hours and drifted off. I had no clue of my forthcoming sleep deprivation.