Weeks passed and Jezebel settled in nicely. She played with the other dogs, she had her own bed behind my desk next to me, and I bought her a new collar, one that wouldn’t stain the white fur of her neck brown. There was very little interest in her at the adoption events but truthfully, we only took her to the minimum number required. I found something wrong with every person who paid her the least bit of attention.
She had no idea what the adoption events were. She just tagged along and stayed by my side. As far as she was concerned, she was just hanging out with Mom. She was fine with that. She had no idea that we intended to turn her over to some other family.
One gorgeous Saturday, I took her to an adoption event and we sat outside on the sidewalk. All of the dog handlers were out there and most of the dogs were lying comfortably in the sun. It wasn’t too hot and there was a light breeze. I was sitting a couple of feet in front of the building and Jezzy was curled up behind me. She still got nervous when there were too many other dogs around.
One dog was not as relaxed as the others. It was a Jack Russell/Beagle mix. It was not a cute dog and her disposition left a lot to be desired. She barked and snapped and growled at every dog and even most people who crossed her path. She and her handler were walking down the sidewalk, heading towards the entrance of the store, and they paused a few feet in front of me. She barked her fool head off and I said, “Oh knock that off, no one’s doing anything to you.”
And that’s when it happened. Jezebel peeked around my shoulder and whined.
“It’s okay,” I whispered to her.
She did not agree. Some dog was barking at her mom and she wasn’t having it. She slowly walked out from behind me, her tail low, her head bowed down, her eyes unsure, and stood between me and the barking dog. She was shaking but she stood firm. She was not going to allow any dog to get to her Mom. She faced the barking dog until the handler led her away, then she turned to face me, wagged her tail, and visibly relaxed. I drew her to me, kissed her on the head, grabbed my purse, and headed to the adoption table. I wrote out the check for her adoption fee, signed all the papers, and made her mine.
I told the people at the adoption table what happened; after seeing how brave she was on my behalf, I couldn’t let her down by handing her off to someone else. She had not been able to trust many people in her short life and I was not going to shatter her heart by letting sending her away.
“It’s about time,” the VP said. “Everyone knew you weren’t going to let anyone else have her.”
I looked at her and smiled. I swear she smiled back and I sat down in a chair and said, “You are mine now. No one will ever be able to take you away.” She happily spun around in a circle and I laughed. She hung out with me for the rest of the afternoon, helping other dogs find their forever homes. Strangely enough, after I made her mine, people inquired about her, asking if she was still available. I smiled at them and said that no, she had found her family.
I’ve never regretted taking her in. Even with the obstacles that come with her breed, the problems with renting and buying homeowner’s insurance, she has been worth every ounce of effort I’ve made to keep her. She is my soul dog and I will never allow anything to get between us.
