We were going to adopt a dog.
We'd been thinking about it for a really long time. Almost four years, in fact. I've always wanted a pug and The Boyfriend was totally down with that notion. We're both hippies at heart so we decided on a rescue as opposed to going to a breeder or a pet store.
(Side Note: Seriously, please don't go to a pet store. I'm not one of those crazy PETA people, what with my love of a good steak and a leather bag, but puppy mills are major no nos. No animal lover wants this to be the reality for their four legged friend.)
We did our research. Oh, boy, did we research. The Boyfriend is obsessive about information. It's a good quality, but exhausting, too. We have a 29 gallon aquarium and he painstakingly researched every type of tropical fish that went into it. What they liked to eat, what fish they'd get along with, even their personality traits. He is nothing if not thorough.
Our research lead us to Pug Rescue of San Diego County. Yes, I know that we live in Los Angeles. Yes, I know that San Diego is two hours away. And, yes, I know that there are pug rescue societies in LA. However, PRSDC had Mushu an adorable 3 year old pug who had been relinquished by his family because they recently got a more dominant dog.
I fell in love with Mushu right away. The Boyfriend fell in love with Mushu. We immediately contacted the society and they put us in touch with Mushu's awesome foster mom. After speaking to her, we knew that he was the perfect pug for us. And that, gentle reader, is how I would up getting up at 5am on a Saturday, driving to San Diego for a pancake breakfast, and returning with a pug.
I have to say, I'm a tad terrified right now. I imagine people with newborns feel the same way. You're so thrilled with your new baby. He or she is everything you've ever dreamed of. But now there's this living thing. And it depends on you. This, my friends, is going to be an adventure. I'll keep you posted.