When I was younger, I was absolutely terrified of dogs; even the sweetest dogs would bring me to tears. I remember always asking people to put their dogs outside when I was over, and hated having them around.
When I was in fourth grade I got over my fear of dogs. The following year, I came to the realization that I really wanted a dog. I first brought it up to my mom, and then my dad and they both turned me down. Both of them grew up with dogs, or at least had a pet that did more than a gerbil. I was constantly bugging, and I got in trouble numerous times, but I really wanted one, so it was worth it.
Whenever I would go over to my friend’s houses that had dogs, I loved having them around me! Every one of my birthdays and every year at Christmas I would ask for one, I would make that the only thing on the list. Both sides of the family felt that we needed one, because they both at least one dog loved having them as companions, and knew a dog would greatly benefit our family. I always hinted at getting one and checked the pound sites constantly.
One day I was quietly sitting there when suddenly I got a text from a good friend of mine. It said; “THERE ARE WEIMARANER’S AT THE CANYON COUNTY ANAIMAL SHELTER!” It was so important to me because my dad has always really liked Weimaraner’s; they are large gray sporting dogs with the most enchanting eyes you will ever see. So when I thought about it, I thought I would have a much larger chance at getting a dog.
I immediately pulled up the site and scrolled through the long list of adorable and sad looking dogs, and then I saw eight of them. The one that popped off the page to my family and I was a one named Gucci; she was adorable and 4 months old. I asked if we could go see her, my dad finally agreed and went on a Monday, only to find it closed. We went home and decided to return the next day.
On Tuesday we arrived and I ran in. We went in the dog room and were immediately suffocated by the rotten smell. It was dirty, hot, and humid; the smell of the wet dogs and their waste hung in the air. We walked around and saw some cute ones, but none that we felt we couldn’t live without. When we went to the other side I walked ahead and saw a pile of black and gray all piled on one another slowly waking up to the sound of peoples voices. When they all got up and stretched, the bottom one emerged, it was Gucci, she was so small and sweet and she was one of the quietest dogs in the kennel. My dad didn’t think my sister and I were interested so we left.
A little down the road I asked why we left. He just didn’t know we liked her that much, so we turned around and asked to meet her. My sister didn’t want a dog; she thought it was something our family just didn’t need. We went back inside and asked to see her; she asked who we had our eye on.
We were first interviewed for about an hour; this interview gave the employee a chance to get to know us and see how well we were informed on dogs, and how to care for them. One thing that she described to us was why she was at the pound. It turns out she was saved from a hoarding situation with all the other dogs, they lived in a box for months, in their own waste that was the reason for the few bald spots on the dogs and why many were sick, and they clearly weren’t fed much during that time considering we could see their ribs. My sister, dad and I talked for a minute when the interview was over we considered all the changes that would happen if we decided to adopt her. We decided to then meet Gucci and then make our final decision.
Seeing her for the first time in a claustrophobic room, all three of us on edge, afraid we won’t like her (or vice versa). When the employee walked in with her, I was already in love with this little puppy. The lady left us alone to talk about it and get to know the little dog that was standing before us. Gucci got nervous, but we knew we loved her and it was after that when we made our decision.
My dad went to the front desk and said we would like to adopt Gucci, but she still needed to be spayed and we could pick her up around 2 pm the following day. As it turns out there was a lady behind my dad in line who was there to adopt Gucci, luckily for us all she had a second choice. We left the Canyon County Animal Shelter and called my mom and told her we had gotten a dog.
The next day we picked her up she was small and scared; she had had surgery earlier that afternoon. We couldn’t even get out of the parking lot without her crying, whining, and barking. This was the first noise we had heard come out of her, her bark was louder then most and it made her sound viscous and aggressive. My dad was driving and my mom was in the backseat with me, before reaching the interstate she decided to put Gucci with us to try to make her more comfortable.
When we arrived home, my sister and I brought her to the back yard to show her where she would be living. While we were doing this my mom and dad were bringing up her crate, and putting it in the house. My dad then put up a cardboard barrier that split the crate in half, the reason for this was because the lady who interviewed us told us that dogs usually like their own small spaces, the feel much safer, like it’s their little safe spot, and this was a big crate for a small dog.
We put Gucci in the crate, and I went outside to help my dad with something. When I came back in I was shocked to that see that she had managed to break through the barrier and trapped herself in the half that was meant to be blocked off. We took out the cardboard and let her have them whole thing, which she seemed to like better. At night she slept in her crate because my dad didn’t want a mostly indoor dog.
Barking and whining is all we would hear at night. My dad, who has to wake up really early for his job, so a barking dog that would start barking at 3 am did not go over well with any of us, especially him. My sister and I would take turns to get up and take her to the bathroom, and then she would act like a crazy puppy. It caused so much stress; we had no clue how to handle her. We weren’t even done with the fence yet, so she had to be tied to a rope in the backyard for a little over a week.
The upcoming weekend my dad and I had plans to go to Washington for a motorcycle race. When we would call my sister would always complain about how loud she was! But while we were in Washington, my sister really bonded with our dog and adored her like me. I felt so bad; here I am in Washington having fun while my sister takes care of the dog that was my idea!
When we got home, she was a little quieter and better behaved, and by then we had a name my cousin suggested, Sprocket. Later that night when we called my mom and sister we told them about the news, we all liked it and didn’t have any other name ideas. When my dad and I returned my sister told us about how loud she was while we were gone. Rosie said when she was in her crate, in the garage, and my sister was upstairs in her room listening to music she could still hear her bark, whine, and cry over her music.
A little while after we got back, I took her to 2 of her training lessons at a nearby Petco?, there was one other puppy, it was named Ollie. Compared to Ollie, Sprocket was a monster!
At first when I took her on walks with friends and their dogs I was constantly calling her, feeling the need to have her by my side at all times afraid she would run off. Over time, I loosened up and made sure I could still see her or at least hear her tags clanking together. She still wasn’t the best at listening; I had a bag of treats every walk we went on. But eventually she stopped caring about the treats; she was more interested in the smells and sights then a treat.
She is over a year and a half years old, and (to this day she doesn’t listen all that well) but she is the best dog for our family. In the end, I am incredibly thankful for out perfect dog, and I don’t have any regrets.