Don't Pick Me!

I wasn't looking for a dog. I didn't want a dog. I had nothing against the canine set; I was just more of a cat person. And who can blame me, look at these beauties, baby and Gypsy:

Cats are easy. They're independent and low maintenance. You don't have to take them for walks and you sure don't have to take them out in a snowstorm with a baggy on your hand to pick up their steaming turds.

But my husband wanted a dog. Well, really, my husband pestered the living daylights out of me for a dog. He thought it would be good for us. It would get us out. We'd get exercise. And given that we're both autistic, he reasoned that a dog would be an ideal emotional support animal.

I ignored his pleas. And when that didn't work, I tried logically explaining that we could ill afford to bring another hungry mouth into the household. he was undeterred. He was, pardon the pun, like a dog with a bone.

He became obsessed with the idea of getting a dog. That's one of the ways his autism manifests itself. He becomes completely fixated. He also has a complete lack of practicality.

His mind is a wondrous place of paint and music. And he lives in a world of barely organized chaos that almost causes me to hyperventilate.

On the other hand, I am a creature of habit, holding fast to facts, figures and order.

The contrast in our workspaces is a perfect representation of the contrast in our personalities. I'm all charts, lists, reason, routine and order. He is not.

But, I love him. And my one weakness is that I can't say no to him, at least not for long. He wore me down. If a dog was what he wanted, a dog he shall have.

And I found one on a local buy and sell site. Two Border Collie/Australian Shepherd/Great Pyrenese mix males were left from the litter of 5 and one caught my eye. He was fluffy with an adorable mix of black, white and brindle. And he had the cutest blue eyes.

I looked at his picture over and over again for a day or two then made the call. Soon we were off on a 40-minute drive to a farm in the middle of nowhere to pick up our boy.

Only we didn't.

Oh, we drove to the farm alright. And as we entered the yard, the object of my affection, along with his mother, father, grandmother and 3 or 4 other dogs came bounding up to me. I crouched down and gave them all some love.

My boy was so adorable and so sweet and happy. He licked my face and eagerly pounced all over me while his brother, handsome in his own right, with more black in his fur and soulful brown eyes, watched timidly from the step.

With our choice made, the couple selling the pups, Stepfanie and Burton, invited us in to complete the transaction. We followed them toward the house.

And that's when our lives changed forever. My husband slipped on the ice and hit the end of the driveway with a thunderous thud. He went down like a ton of bricks. Well, 250 pounds of bricks, to be exact.

And the little pup from the step came running. He made a beeline for Carl and gently licked and pawed him. His sweet chocolate-coloured eyes were full of so much compassion.

When he saw that Carl was okay, he began to jump on him playfully.

He got up and we proceeded toward the house. This little guy kept jumping on his leg and making cute little puppy noises.

He was relentless. He made his decision. We were his humans. He picked us. And in that moment, we picked him back. We changed our minds about his brother and knew he was the dog we were taking home. So we did.

That first day, he puked in the van on the ride home. He'd never been in a vehicle before. We didn't mind.

Once we got home, he quickly became acquainted with his surroundings. It was almost as if he looked around and said, "Yeah, this'll do, I guess I live here now."

He took over, not only the house but our hearts. He's added so much joy to our lives and I can't even imagine an existence without him.

It turns out my husband was right. We do get out more and we do get more exercise. He's lost about 20 pounds just from our daily walks. And my social anxiety is much less severe when Rudy's out and about with me. Suddenly, I can engage in everyday chit chat with others without being crippled by fear.

Not bad for a pup. And just think, it was him who picked us! How lucky are we?