Stain Removers

I called the breeder on Tuesday, when no one else was around, after yoga, after the cleaning lady has disappeared. I had a few questions to ask, mostly nonsensical, female oriented questions like, when can we come pick him up? Oh sure, I have a thousand other questions about which stain remover is best for dog urine but I had moved right to the heart of this decision.

When we actually spoke, the question I asked was more along the lines of “Can you tell me a little bit about the process?” This was always my standard phrase when caught in between uncertainty and death. And it certainly felt like it here. If I didn’t do this now, my husband would kill me. After the hours of research he put in, and the time that he gazed at me, with tears in his eyes, unsure if he could let the pup sit in Petland one more day.

Ok, so I had stumbled on the Petland decision. I could not let this puppy sit and wait for another good home. I knew we could be one. But I had to let it go. I would be in conversation a week later with a neighbor who has also visited Petland (She already has a dog, but perhaps was angling for another) and right away, her first reaction was, we saw that dog. He was so cute.

After a brief conversation with the breeder, I hung up the phone. My instincts from my recruiting days were coming back to me. I used to hire based on my gut. I had such similar outlook to my boss and it seemed my co-workers and I shared such a common vibe, that it was easy to just hire someone that struck me as true. The same could be said for Debbie. Over the phone, her enthusiasm was palpable through the phone lines. I could almost hear the puppies purring in the background as if she was channeling them for me to hear.

I asked a few more questions about where and when to send the contract, then hung up. When Mark arrived home, we had another closed door session. We kept having them, I am surprised the kids did not pick up on that. Except that during the Super Bowl, Kaitlyn was playing with my niece, creating crayon drawings. And Kaitlyn's resembled more a kindergarten drawing (she’s almost 15) with a stick figure of Cheryl, Shannon, herself, Davis, my niece Sophy and a puppy. Talk about channeling.

I popped the envelope in the mail and then had to wait.