24 Hours With Abbie Lynn
My friend Nancy and her daughter Carolyn helped me pick up Abbie Lynn yesterday. Huge animal lovers, both of them. We got to the shelter and it was chaos. The shelter worker brought Abbie Lynn out and then they couldn’t find her paperwork for a couple minutes.
Abbie was insanely happy to have two new friends in Carolyn and Nancy. She can wag. And wag. And wag wag wag. She immediately climbed up on Carolyn’s lap and stood there, then stood on top of the coffee table.
There was a mom with five kids under the age of 10 in the waiting room. They were there to decide on a new pet and the screaming was incredible – jet-engine loud, high-pitched, paint-peeling screaming. They were fighting over who got a cup of water from the dispenser, then one of them spilled water all over the concrete floor.
Meanwhile, several shelter workers came out to say good-bye to Abbie Lynn, one shy skinny tough-looking kid looking sad as he hugged her and she put her front paws around his shoulders.
On the way to the car, she escaped the collar – the one I had gotten was just a leeeetle too big – and gave me a heart attack. Fortunately, she ran over to another shelter dog who was being walked by a volunteer, and we recaptured her and crab-walked her over to the car.
The trip home was uneventful. She stayed in the back, looked curiously out the windows, was quiet. When we got home, she ran into the house like she owned the place. She was delighted by the box of toys and spent some time tossing them up into the air and playing with them.
She ate and drank and went outside to do her business – all very normal, yay for being housetrained.
When I went to bed last night, I dragged the dog bed in beside my bed, but she declined, instead choosing the big red chair. I awoke about 1 a.m. and went to check her. She began wagging as soon as she saw me, then came in and climbed up into bed with me and spent about half an hour nuzzling me, licking my hair and trying to smooch me. Then she slept for the rest of the night.
This morning she did not want to get in the car to go to Grandma’s. I figure she’s freaked out by so much change in such a short period of time – being lost, found, taken to the shelter, fostered, brought back to the shelter, spayed and adopted – so I didn’t blame her.
She charmed my mom by being sweet and smoochy and gentle and curious. I went to the grocery store and she climbed up in Goldie’s old spot on mom’s leather couch, and fell fast asleep.
She seems exhausted. I got her out for a walk down the block and back, but she was timid and scared, not ready to get far from home. When we came back, she leapt to the front door and begged to go in, eager to be in her house again.
She’s been sleeping in the red chair ever since. I climbed up and put my arm around her and she snored contentedly.
Not a bad first day. I’m canceling all other weekend obligations, just spending my time bonding with her. She deserves to be able to relax and feel like she has a forever home.