Welcome Home, Donut!

My family has been looking for a new dog for about a year now, ever since we moved into our first house. We missed having a dog around after our mini poodle, Fozzie passed away from cancer in 2021.

We adopted Fozzie in August of 2013. After more than two years trying unsuccessfully for a human child, we decided we needed a place to channel our parental instincts. The adoption happened rather organically. It was my mother-in-law’s birthday. We were taking her out to celebrate, and right next door was a pet store holding an adoption event. We couldn’t resist checking it out. My in-laws, who are also animal enthusiasts, were happy to join us.

I had been allergic to my Grandfather’s German Shepherd as a kid, so I asked one of the volunteers if they had any hypoallergenic breeds. They pointed to this little tan poodle named Rocky. He seemed like a chill dog, exactly what we were looking for.

Before we got too excited, the volunteer warned us that a woman had previously shown interest in him and therefore had dibs. We decided not to get our hopes up and to continue our festivities. Then we’d head back to the pet store and see if Rocky were still available, leaving it in the hands of fate.

Fate smiled on us that day because we went home with our new fur baby. My in-laws are dog people. They were happy for us, unaware of our fertility issues.

Our poodle got the name Fozzie because we let him pick his own toy to bring home. He chose a plush Kermit the Frog. He loved that thing.

Fozzie was a great comfort to us both. Though he had a lot of anxiety, and he’d occasionally destroy some of our things, he was super sweet and intelligent.

A few months later, I was pregnant. We did all we could to prepare Fozzie for the baby, all the wisdom the internet had to offer. We played him audio clips of babies crying and let him sniff one of the delivery blankets.

It was no use, the night we brought our newborn home was chaos. While my husband and I were tending to the baby, Fozzie had gotten into a bottle of ibuprofen. Those caps may be childproof, but they cannot stand up to a determined poodle. My husband had to tear himself away from us to rush Fozzie to the all-night emergency vet.

Fozzie didn’t like playing second banana especially as the baby became a toddler. He took to correcting her the way a dog would correct his pup with a low growl and a gentle mouthing. He never bruised or broke the skin, but it was concerning, nonetheless.

We took training lessons, tried different behavioral conditioning, but were largely unsuccessful. For as much intelligence as they possess, poodles are equally strong willed. We learned to read his signs and give him space when he needed it. Great way to deal with temperamental humans as well.

The vet discovered a tumor in Fozzie’s abdomen around his eleventh birthday. He deteriorated fast. Over the course of a week with medication to manage his pain, we decided it was time to end his suffering and say goodbye to our faithful friend. Our daughter received her first lesson in the death of a loved one.

At that time, we weren’t ready for a new pet. We were saving up to buy a new house with a fenced in backyard. Perfect for our future dog.

We moved into this house two Christmases ago, but life is funny. The timing was never quite right. If it wasn’t money concerns, then it was travel or getting bested by another family interested in the same small hypoallergenic dog. We like adopting from a shelter and these breeds are hard to come by in an shelter scenario.

My parents got a beagle puppy named Walter from a nearby adoption center. It surprised us that they'd want a puppy, but they were under the impression that he was a calm one. That proved to be untrue. He’s rambunctious and teething and getting into everything, not to mention the potty-training learning curve. It’s a lot of work, but they love him dearly and they say the snuggles are worth it.

I noticed that I don’t show any allergy symptoms around Walter, so I figured beagles are safe.

Our daughter, an only child, wanted a dog most of all. She was very patient. Since my husband works most weekends, he gave us decision making powers months ago. Said he’d be happy with whomever we brought home.

We tested that theory last week. While my husband was at work, we went down to the shelter. They showed us three disinterested dogs. Then the volunteer led us to a different building where they kept the dogs with kennel cough.

“There’s one more dog I want you to meet. I think you’ll like him.”

She trotted out a little beagle named Curry, his tail going back and forth like a windshield wiper. We sat on the steps, and he immediately came up to us for pets and snuggles. Lightning struck. We agreed that this would be our new dog.

My husband would come home from work in a few hours and my daughter wanted to surprise him. He called to say he’d be early, but my daughter and I just giggled nervously into the phone. “Okay, great. Nothing to see here. Just an average day. Boring.” He had no idea.

We brought our new 5-year-old beagle into the living room to greet my husband and he was in love. We all are. Curry, A.K.A. Donut is the best dog. He is calm, super affectionate and already house-trained.

Whenever I take him for a walk, he sniffs very intentionally, like he’s about to make a major discovery.

What is it boy? Buried treasure? Shallow grave? 😳

His breath smells pickled shit from the devil’s butthole, but nobody’s perfect. Welcome to our family, donut. You have stolen our hearts!