I am an animal lover. There have been few times in my life when I didn’t have an animal of some sort. I love them, madly. I love the unconditional affection that they give. I’m in desperate need for that kind of connection at the moment, so I recently started the process of looking for a new fur baby.
I’ve made a point to choose a pup from a shelter or rescue organization. I have narrowed down my search in terms of breed, size, personality, history of abuse, housebroken status, and location. I guess it’s like my own little matching tool.
And that’s when the parallel world of child and animal adoption began to collide, and well, make me feel all kinds of icky.
We found two pups that seemed to be good fits, but they were both adopted by others before we could make a real move.
I’m the hang up. Every time I read the requirements for adopting an animal from a local rescue organization I just have to close my web browser. The forms can be as long as 10 pages, ask for references, previous pet ownership and a bunch of other information. Most stunningly, they all expect to conduct at least one home visit.
Yeah, a home visit.
You read that right.
Hope’s and my last home visit was about 5 months ago. We had a great, great, great social worker. She has been a dream, so supportive, encouraging and a great resource. That said, I was glad when she stopped visiting officially. Prepping for her visits was a bit stressful. Actually really stressful.
So, here I am again, looking at home visits…for a dog.
Can I just give you a copy of my home study? A letter from my social worker? How about my adoption decree? They let me have a kid and I can assure you they crawled right up the crack of my fanny to make sure I was good enough, so will you let me have a dog? Please?
I mean really. REALLY. This has me all in my feels.
Oh and I asked one of the places about it. I did. The answer they gave me let me know that 1) This rescuer is kind hearted but a cuckoo, nutter full of foolishness and 2) they actually find Hope and future pup so equal that perhaps their adoption process wasn’t stringent enough.
Scratch that rescue group from the list. Whackadoos. Harrumph.
Do I really have to mimic a process that allowed me to have a daughter in order to get a pet? It feels really, really extra.
It’s extra for a couple of reasons I guess. First the adoption process, now looking back, was incredibly stressful. Laying your life bare, even when you have nothing to hide, is tough. It’s just hard to subject yourself to judgment and possible rejection. Actually, I am still emotionally drained from it; it’s like a happy ending to a really crazy drama. I didn’t realize how much I still needed to recover from the process until I initiated the “process” of looking for a new fur baby.
Second, the idea of mimicking the human adoption process in order to adopt an animal…Oy. I get it. I do on some weird level. But multiple home visits? That’s just so stunning and so very extra to me.
I need a dog. I will take care of a dog very well. But all of this is just very upsetting and just a little too reminiscent of the process I just completed to get a teenager.