When we knew we were moving into our new home, and we were pg with our first kid, and I had a mittful of cash from graduation presents, we decided to get a puppy. I've always had rescue pets, but I was worried about adopting a stray with the impending years of toddlerhood. I put my name on a list with a local breeder for a chocolate lab pup and waited. Weeks later I was disappointed to find out that the pgcy she had advertised was hysterical - I guess dogs can trick themselves into seeming pregnant! She moved me to another list and that litter fell through a week later. I was devastated (cause that was a real life problem back then) and desperate (b/c the baby was getting closer and I didn't want to have a newborn dog AND a newborn human at the same time. I scoured the internet for breeders within driving distance (pretty much the worst way to find a dog) and found one up in Northern NB. I put down a deposit with her and a few weeks later got an email that said "Your baby boy is born!" (exact wording, I remember it clearly). That sweet, funny puppy is now twelve years old. I describe him as my external furry soul. He's nothing short of perfect.
But what does that have to do with anything?I remind myself of this story when I'm disappointed. Another 'no thanks' letter this morning. I'm reminding myself that it took several disappointments to end up with the Perfect Pup and so the 'no's I hear now are b/c there's a much better 'yes' coming. Right? RIGHT?
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