He cried and cried for days. The flames of anxiety roared at a fever pitch as though people were trying to escape a burning building. Toby had lost complete self-control.
And I thought I had lost my mind, having come to the decision that I wanted to adopt. For months I perused photos of beagles and with high hopes I had just picked two-year-old Toby.
I wanted so desperately to have a dog, my first dog as an adult. This dog I just knew would complete me and give me the love that my heart longed for.
In just a week’s time Toby had climbed my apartment blinds tearing them all down. He earned the nickname Houdini after escaping a kennel without the door ever being opened.
The angst continued for weeks. Toby and I weren’t a match.
He needed someone else and it wasn’t me. He needed to be somewhere else and wasn’t with me. Still, it pierced my heart that I wasn’t right for Toby.
We packed up his things and Toby was on his way back into foster care.
A piece of me left with Toby that day as I wept, watching as he was driven away.
Weeks and weeks went by. I waited for another call. Would they find the one for me?
Was there one for me? My heart longed to love and to be loved by a furry four-legged baby.
Months later the call came to arrange a visit with Boscoe. He was older and his family was getting ready to have a baby. Boscoe seemed like he was sweet and well adjusted. Until his people left.
Boscoe was so freaked out that he decided to launch on my leg as though it was turkey, taking a chunk from my ankle. His people came back to get him.
It was a hard season for me, a season of longing and looking for love in so many places. The next day rejection set in. I cried. Was I that unlovable that not even a dog could be satisfied with me, to feel secure, and be loved?
I had concluded that there wasn’t a dog for me. My heart couldn’t help but wonder what might be wrong with me that a dog wouldn’t even want me. My hopeless heart while still fractured barely beat.
This world of deep rejection had haunted me for a lifetime; I just thought a dog might bandage the wounds of my soul.
More months passed. The adoption rep knew what a toll this had taken on me, yet she called again. She wanted me to meet someone.
Days later she would bring a charming little six year old girl to visit me. Her name was Skylar. She was sweet and walked on a leash right beside me. Her eyes were like mine, little mud pies.
Like me, she was laid back, easy going and mild. She was the one. I adopted Skylar in April 2010.
I see so much of me in her. Stubbornness, energy, relentless enthusiasm, and endless love flowing out of all 29lbs of her.
She’s shown me a kind of love that no human has ever shown me. She demonstrates the love God has for me with no conditions.
Every day things are new, no matter what she did (potty inside or get on the counter) or what I may have done, it’s a blank slate. Love, love, love. Just big ole love.
Waiting for the right one was worth it. Adoption is a tremendous gift.