After our tortoiseshell cat, Molly died, Andrew grew more and more insistent about getting a dog. Tortoiseshell cats tend to be one owner types and she was as affectionate to me as a dog. After having a series of cats, Andrew wanted a dog in the house for years, and I had put him off.
It was hard for me to imagine a dog of any kind or size fitting into our busy life. How would a dog get along with the cats? Would it need more exercise and play time than we could give it? My commute makes for a lengthy day away and Andrew has an entirely different schedule and I worried a dog at our house would not have a good life.
With Molly gone, it was undeniable that life was a little lonely. Moxie and Maxwell have affectionate moments but neither are champions of snuggling. In late April of 2017 we went to the Madison County Humane Society for the first time on the mutual agreement that we were just looking. We needed a cuddly dog.
I think "just looking" was more of a reassurance from Andrew, who would love any dog and that the choice of which dog would largely be up to me. As I passed more and more dogs my heart sank lower and lower, knowing they were all good dogs in need of a home. I felt worse and worse as each new furry face inspired no interest. Too big, too loud, too scary looking, too fluffy. They all looked too big for me to handle on a leash at 7:30 in the morning, half awake on a sleety winter day. I wanted to give a dog a chance but couldn't get excited about any of them. We went down the last aisle of mostly empty kennels but we could hear a little more barking and I thought to myself, "don't they have any little dogs?"
We drew near a small brown Benji type terrier that was barking non stop and I thought "well, we will have to go somewhere else or what until there is some turn over here." Then at the very last kennel, right beside the yappy brown Benji dog, was a small black and white dog with a short coat and large eyes. The dog sprang from their bed on PVC pipe stilts and sat primly in front of their door. Not a sound, with ears pinned back, dancing their front feet, and their whole bottom wagging along with their tail in excitement at the prospect of being let out.
She didn't yap or bark...which was a slight misrepresentation of her vocalization habits. We did another lap around the shelter aisles but I had made up my mind this was the only dog I wanted to meet. I told Andrew the dog seemed nice and we asked a volunteer to get out "the little black and white dog at the end of the row." We waited in the little play room and when they brought "Tutu" in she was everywhere all at once, sniffing, jumping, running around and completely ignoring us. Of course she was, being let out of a kennel was probably an overwhelming joy. It was not love at first sight for any of us, I think and I was really more into the logistics of care that she represented rather then her self.
She could easily jump 5 feet into the air from a sitting position and almost jumped over the half door of the play room. The volunteer joked that she was a real "land shark" which we later interpreted as a big, big kisser/licker. The only thing that could pull her from running around like a maniac was a fistful of treats the volunteer gave each of us. This seemed to add another layer of stimulation to her almost short circuited energy. We were encouraged to give her as much treat as she wanted and she would stop for a nanosecond to gobble what was offered and would be off again. We were told her name was Tutu and at a year old she was unlikely to get much bigger.
The volunteer hooked her up to a leash where we took her for a walk around the large lawn behind the shelter where she walked us more than we walked her and continued to ignore us while she checked the many, many messages left by the other shelter dogs on the perimeter of the lawn. She barked and lunged at any other dog she saw, even if it was at a distance and we thought that could be worked out later. (HA!) Do you know how we work it out? By not taking her around other dogs...
I will admit that on that afternoon I did not immediately think Tutu would become the love of our lives. I knew she was little, I could handle her more or less, Andrew wanted a dog, and she would fit the bill fine...probably.
We had an extra lot going on at this time. Andrew was finishing up his second of three semesters of an accelerated RN program and I was about to change library employment for the first time in 14 years.
We brought her back to the building after a couple laps where she continued to lunge and bark at other dogs and the volunteers joked with us about "little dog syndrome." We filled out an application and left, already listing the dog stuff we would need to buy. I remember she was wearing a green and yellow John Deere collar. Because of already planned weekend trips, work schedules, and time needed to get a crate and other accoutrements, it took us two weeks to get her, including application review.
I stopped on a Friday afternoon halfway between the two weeks and to take her for a walk. I was surprised by how excited I was as I waited for a volunteer to get her out. She was more or less happy to see me. It was quieter at the shelter than the Saturday before and I felt like this was really the first time we could see each other but she still had a healthy dose of "I'm too busy to pay attention to you" attitude.
It was at this visit that we tested her around other cats, because how she treated them would be a deal breaker or maker for our household. The test consisted of walking her into the cat room that held the cat cages, then opening the door of the cattery room for lounge and play and letting "Drop Dead Fred" approach her. Apparently, this large white and cream colored cat would play dead around any dog that should not be placed in a home with cats. While Tutu seemed more interested in trying to eat cat food behind the bars of the cat cages, Fred scratched at a post, ambled about, and sat down in the middle of the room to wash a paw. I was assured these were all good signs of potential feline and canine harmony, more or less.
In the meantime, there was a crate to get, leashes, collars, tags, dishes, a cushion for the crate, and a pet carrier for the car. It added up.
Before I go further, we do have a backstory for Tutu that the Humane Society gave us. It is at once dramatic and vague. I'll not go into it here. Suffice to say, she's very happy now and we try not to think about what her first year of life was like. She is lucky to have found her way to the Humane Society and that she got solid training in basic commands and house training through a prison canine training program to make her more adoptable. The house training was essential for a pair of new dog owners sworking full time.
We picked her up the morning of Mother's Day, a warm sunny Sunday in 2017 and it was a big day for all of us. After we picked her up we stopped by Petsmart to get her a tag with our names, phone number, and promise of a reward if found. She is also micro chipped. She was not a big fan of the travel carrier and we ended up returning it for a harness that hooked onto the seat belt. Now she has a luxurious travel box.
From Petsmart we went to Yellow Springs to walk in Glen Helen.
She seemed to really enjoy this except for when she crossed other dogs on the path, which was almost constantly. The little dog syndrome we had seen at the shelter and Petsmart did not mellow out in the Great Outdoors. We got carry out from Winds Café and returned home for her first bath in her new home.
We added an OSU licensed pennant collar (code for expensive) to her new red and black Kong collar for her charming first introduction to her Maw Maw and Paw Paw. Tutu loves both of my parents which is a story for another day.
Our first night together, we insisted she sleep in her kennel crate as she had been trained to do.
In response, Tutu insisted that none of us would get any sleep that night. Her repertoire of wails, whines, cries and barks is impressive, heart breaking, and easily remedied.
