I’m a single, mixed, female, approximately 16 months old. I say approximately because no one told me my DOB. The animal shelter vet estimated my age to be 12 months. This was back in April, when I was adopted by my Human. My Human picked me out among 100+ dogs at a shelter. I felt very special.
They think I’m a Dachshund and Beagle mix. I definitely have the howl of a beagle. And my elongated torso makes me resemble a Wiener Dog, but slightly better proportioned.
My Human and I met for the first time in the shelter’s fenced play area. The surroundings were less than impressive. No grass, no trees, just concrete. I was nervous at first and crawled around, low to the ground.
Once I sniffed out my Human, I immediately felt at ease. She had a flowery scent about her. And smelled clean, unlike my kennel-mates.
“Do you want to go home with me?” She asked.
I didn’t know how to answer since I hadn’t discovered my Beagle howl yet. So I looked deep into her eyes and used mental telepathy, “YES! Please take me home with you!”
She heard me.
The days spent at the shelter were stressful. We didn’t know who’d go to a new home or who’d end up in the room where dogs didn’t return. Each time the animal control officers came by, we ducked our heads low and tried not to make eye contact. I was scared at times. Other times I was hopeful.
My Human and I drove home from Compton to Santa Barbara. The car hummed along the windy road and I slept the entire drive along the Coast. In hindsight, I should have kept my Human company, as a gesture of appreciation for saving me from animal control. But I was exhausted and couldn’t keep my eyes open.
After the long drive home, I woke up and inhaled deeply. I just knew I had landed in a safe place with my Human.