Ruff, ruff!

We flew out to New Mexico to visit family for the Christmas holiday. Before we left we made an appointment with an animal shelter to see a puppy they had available for adoption. Mr. C has been asking us to get a dog for years, and this Christmas seemed like a good time to finally get one. 

We had been looking for a small puppy, maybe eight weeks old. The plan being that we would be able to carry it back with us in a small dog carrier on the airplane. Ideally, when it was an adult dog, it would be a mid sized, short haired dog. From the photo and description the shelter had posted, the one we were to visit seemed to be a good match.  However, once we arrived and spent some time with him, it was obvious that this puppy did not care for us. He gave us a couple of sniffs before walking to the far corner of his pen. In the neighboring pen though, were three puppies from the same litter, they all looked similar, but one of them was trying very hard to get our attention.  Jumping up and wagging his tail as fast as he could.

So we asked to see Mr. Friendly Dog. Not at all what we were there to see, he was a three month old, long haired dog. From the size of him, it looked like he was going to be a big dog. 

The manager of the shelter offered to let us take him into a much larger pen, one with a grassy area that they used to exercise each dog individually. C ran around and the dog followed him everywhere, both of them looked so happy. It was immediately apparent that this was a better match. You can’t plan everything in life exactly the way you’d like, of course we this was the dog we got.

The airline had a requirement that dogs had to be smaller than 9″ tall and 13″ long, larger dogs were not allowed on their planes. Ours was 15″ tall and 25″ long.  So how are we going to get back to New Hamshire, which is about 2,300 miles away?


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