Once upon a time, my (ex) husband and I went to a shelter to find a dog (for him). When we got there, this woman (me, who is a cat lover) went into the cat room and fell in love. I bonded with my new friend, and went looking for my (ex) husband. He "HAD TO HAVE" a dog. Except he couldn't decide which one.
Ex: This one. No, that one. No, wait.
Shelter worker: Do you want a big dog or a little dog?
Ex: Big one. No, maybe a medium sized. What about that one?
Shelter worker arches eyebrows: I think you should go home and think about it, and then you can come back tomorrow.
Me: I want this cat.
Shelter worker: Happy to help you, ma'am.
We go home. Sulking ensues.
Ex: We went to the shelter for a dog, and you came home with a cat.
Me: But you couldn't decide. They wouldn't give you one just to give you one.
After much discussion, and since it was just a whim for him, I made the decision. Told him which dogs I'd be willing to live with (since he didn't know, as long as it was a dog).
We found a beautiful dog from a litter in a private home who changed my mind about being a doggy mommy. Dog and cat "grew up" together and were great friends all their lives. And the dog? Guess who got her in the divorce? (hint: not the one who HAD TO HAVE a dog - he left her behind. Instead, she stayed with the one who loved her).
We've adopted all our dogs. Three came from other owners who for one reason or another couldn't keep them any longer, and our current resident from the local rescue shelter.
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