The Moment at the Shelter When You Both Just Know

I was in front of kennel 47B when it happened. The shelter volunteer was still talking, telling me his intake story and what his temperament was like, and in what type of home he would do best, but I wasn’t really listening anymore. I was just looking at him. And he was looking at me.

He was older than I had planned on. Greying around the muzzle, and a little stiff when he stood up. He was not the bouncy young dog I had envisioned. My husband and I had discussed getting a second dog to keep Copper company, but there was something in the way he held my gaze. It was calm and steady. Like he had been waiting.

As soon as the volunteer opened the kennel door, he walked out slowly. He didn’t jump, pull, or make a fuss. Instead, he came right to me, sat down at my feet, then leaned his whole body against my leg, and let out a long heavy sigh.

That was it.

I turned to look at my husband, and he was already nodding. We hadn’t discussed it. There were no pro and cons lists. We didn’t talk about whether this was the right fit. We just knew.

I never thought I would believe in the idea of “love at first sight”, especially when it comes to romance. However, I do believe in a sense of recognition. The feeling of meeting a person or even an animal, and an instinctive feeling telling you, “Oh. There you are.”

This feeling is not excitement, and is not provocative. Instead, it is a profound sense of relief. A feeling that allows you to truly be yourself, because you know this is exactly who and where you’re supposed to be, despite the situation lacking definition.

We eventually did not decide to adopt the dog. We found out he had a medical condition that was going to require more attention than we could supply. Luckily, the shelter was able to pair him with a vet tech who was able to provide him with the care that he required. It was the best decision, but it will always remain in my mind.

Once again, I felt the same feeling the day we brought home Copper as a puppy. I felt it once again on the day when Juniper, after months of indifferent behavior, decided to curl up in my lap. I also felt it with several of the foster dogs we’ve had, the dogs who stayed with us for only a few weeks but I became very attached to.

You cannot push or plan these types of situations. It’s one thing to walk into an animal shelter ready to make a decision and come home with a dog or cat. It’s another thing to enter the building with an entire outline with all the steps needed to adopt an animal and prepare to take home a different animal than previously planned. You could walk into the shelter and see a multitude of puppies and kittens and feel nothing until one catches your eye.

I wouldn’t categorize this as mystical. I would describe it as merely a mental exercise. It might take being present long enough to make an observation when the light bulb goes off. When this happens trust your instincts instead of going by the list you wrote. It’s time to let go of what you thought you desired. Prepare for what you have waiting in front of you.

You’re not alone if the animal shelter feels bogged down by all of the animals. After all, you are in a place with dozens of animals all looking for a home. It’s common to go into a mode where you have to think things through instead of adopting a random animal.

Sometimes the best option is to adopt an animal that is completely irrational, and follows your emotions. An animal that feels as if they have chosen you all the time, and when you look back it is as if you have chosen that animal too.