The other day I read a post called ASPCA study: “Pretty” pups picked first on Shine. The article talked about how most dog owners chose their pets based on looks, while most cat owners chose their pets based on personality. I can see validity in that theory. Everyone wants an adorable, “pretty” dog. With cats, you definitely want one who is going to be sweet and friendly. So I started thinking about my own pets. One of them was from a shelter, the other from a private family. The thing is… I don’t think I chose the pets as much as they chose me.

We spent years loving our 2 bulldogs and when they passed away, we always figured we would get another bulldog. The cost of a private “adoption” was prohibitive for us (bulldogs go for close to $2,000), so we decided it would be best for us to get a shelter dog. Our children were still small and I didn’t want to deal with a puppy. We knew we would be taking a chance with an unknown older dog, but we had always talked about getting an Australian Shepard so we kind of had our eye on those.

We poured over the websites of our local shelters and made the rounds looking at all the dogs available. I don’t think I was looking for “pretty”, rather I was searching for something else that would hit me over the head and tell me the dog belonged to us.

I saw Jazz on one of those trips to the shelter. Yes, he was pretty, but there was something about his eyes that spoke volumes to me. This sweet Aussie wasn’t barking at me like the other dogs. He wasn’t jumping up at me or even parading around the tiny cage as if he was showing me his wares. He just sat there with sad eyes. Eyes that said, “I’m not supposed to be here. Help me, please.” I knelt down to pet his head and he let me but didn’t inch any closer to me. I stood and looked at him for a long time. I wanted him.

I ended up going home and talking it over with my husband. There was definitely something about that dog that I couldn’t get out of my mind. We ended up going back a few days later and I was just sure that sweet dog would have been gone. He wasn’t.

When dogs are brought into the shelter, they are held for a week in order to give the owner time to locate their pet. Once the time limit has elapsed and no one has claimed the animal, the staff starts calling the people who have already placed an offer to adopt. I inquired about the Aussie and was told that there were already 2 people ahead of me who wanted him. Great. I guess there was no way this was going to happen. We left the shelter and went home with a great deal of sadness mixed with the sense that at least this one would be going to a good home.

Several days later, I received a call from the shelter. Apparently the first person on the list either changed their mind about the dog or hadn’t responded back. Even more unusual, the second name on the list hadn’t responded either. It was up to me. Did I want the dog?

I honestly believe that just as we get the children we were meant to have, we also get the pets we were meant to have. I don’t know why this fabulous (and dare I say “pretty”) dog was alone in the shelter. I don’t know why neither of the two people on the list before me wanted (or was able) to take him. I don’t care about why. He was meant to be a part of our family.

I couldn’t have asked for a better dog. We look at him every day and know that we didn’t choose him. He chose us.

Our second dog, a puppy, came to us purely by chance. Or divine intervention. Whatever. We had tossed around the idea of getting another dog just so Jazz wouldn’t be alone so much. One day we were all for a second pet, the next day we wondered what the hell were we thinking. One day, David happened to get an email from his brother mentioning that a friend of his had a friend (you know how that goes) who recently had a litter of Shih Tzu puppies. Awwww… how cute. First of all, I didn’t really want a puppy. But… we were kind of skittish with getting another shelter dog when we would have no idea if the new dog would get along with Jazz. You just never know.

I wasn’t all that gung-ho for a Shih Tzu puppy but David talked me into at least driving over one day to take a look at them. We walked into the house, sat down on the couch and the owner went to get the puppies. There were four, all looking pretty much the same - black and white and tiny balls of fur. One of the puppies immediately ran up to me and clamored to be picked up. I did. It was over.

That puppy (Lulu) chose me. I never even had a chance to check out the others.

I know that everything happens for a reason. Jazz has given us more joy than I could have ever imagined. Lulu… while she is still peeing and pooping in my house (I’m pretty sure that dog is untrainable), she has become the little sister that Jazz really needed. They adore each other.