Olive Lucy (Post 2)

The Petfinder Profile!

Olive was one of the dogs I'd applied to adopt and--when I didn't hear back from the shelter--I assumed had already been taken by someone else. According to the Petfinder listing, she was a Border Collie and Spaniel Mix, between 2 and 3 years old, who had just had a litter of puppies. On the drive to the adoption center 45 minutes after getting the text, Emily and I went over the list of questions I had for her foster mom. Everything felt very surreal.

The first thing that we saw when we opened the door was an adorable white fluff ball--who we later learned was one of the last of her litter of puppies. I kept telling myself that I had the power to say No, that this dog wasn't right for me, but a moment later, Olive came bolting into the room, running right towards us, body wriggling with excitement, and my heart just melted! She went back and forth between Emily and me, snuggling up next to us, tail wagging frantically. 

The shelter director told us that someone had seen a very malnourished and pregnant dog wandering the streets of his neighborhood. He managed to get her inside, and brought her into the shelter when she had 10 puppies, 8 of whom survived. When she came in, she was "skin and bones" and infested with fleas and worms. After weaning the puppies, she was spayed and nursed back to health. I couldn't believe she was so trusting of strangers after that horrible story--She wanted nothing more than to cuddle up next to us! And when Olive settled down calmly and quietly, I felt reassured that she was not only loving, but also able to relax. 

We took Olive for a short spin around the parking lot, and I quickly learned what some Petfinder dog profiles had meant by "walks beautifully on a leash" (note: Olive's profile did NOT say that). It had never occurred to me that leash walking was a skill or something that had to be trained, but Olive--who apparently had only been walked on a leash one or two times in her life--lunged and pulled and scampered back and forth around our feet. It was not exactly a relaxing experience, but she was so receptive to our voices, to our redirection, that I could tell she was a smart cookie. I figured training her to walk nicely on a leash wouldn't be too hard (HA!). The more time I spent with her, the more I fell in love. 

Back inside with her foster mom, I had the chance to ask my other questions. Her responses seemed so promising! 

• Q: How is she with other animals? 
• A: Her foster home had multiple other dogs and cats, and she did great with them! 
• Q: How often does she need to be walked/how much activity is she accustomed to? 
• A: Her foster mom didn't walk her, but just let her out in the yard a couple of times a day
• Q: What is her temperament like? 



Cuddles and a smile (which I now know is
one of her signs of anxiety) 

• A: She is calm, cuddly, and doesn't show signs of separation anxiety. 
• Q: Is she a barker?
• A: She certainly has a good bark, but doesn't howl for no reason. 
• Q: How long is she left alone for? 
• A: More than 8 hours a day, and she does fine. 

All of this seemed perfect, and I found myself reaching for my checkbook as Olive cuddled in my lap, tail thumping away. As I signed her paperwork and collected her medical records, her foster mom said, "She doesn't really know the name Olive, so you can change it." Interesting...

And so we found ourselves wandering the aisles of the Persmart with my new, amazing dog--the plans I had made for Emily's visit to Columbus having evaporated in an instant. As we walked collecting food, bowls, a crate, and a few toys, Emily pulled up a list of dog names on her phone. Olive really didn't seem to fit her personality, so we read off other options:

"Emma?" No.

"Maggie?" No.

"Molly?" Maybe. 

"Bailey?" No. 

"Lucy?" We both stopped. Hmmm.... 

I tested them out: "Lucy." "Lucy." "Molly." "Lucy." "Molly." 

A HUGE shoutout to Petsmart. When they
learned that I had just adopted Lucy, they
presented me with a coupon book that saved
a TON of money on supplies and treats. 

It became official when a Petsmart employee came to help us fit a harness for her. "What's her name?" he asked me. Emily and I looked at each other. "Lucy," I immediately said, with confidence. "Her name is Lucy." 

Although we'd been assured that she didn't really know the name Olive, I'd heard that if you want to change a dog's name, you are supposed to tack the new name onto the end of the old name for a while, and then eventually drop the old name. So, we tried it: "Olive Lucy," "Olive Lucy," "Olive Lucy." I don't know which one of us noticed first, but we became hysterical when we realized that--when said quickly--Olive Lucy sounds exactly like I Love Lucy (cue the theme song), which of course I do.

As we walked out of the Petsmart--other customers stopping to pet Lucy and remark upon what an amazing dog she was--I found myself grinning and thinking, "Wow. I can't believe I own this dog!" (note: excited, amazed tone). It was about 5 seconds later, as the automatic doors closed behind us, that my excitement turned into panic; Lucy was pulling on her leash and weaving around our feet. I couldn't get her to stay by me in the parking lot as we fumbled with the cart, her crate, and the bags of supplies. We managed to load everything into the car, and Lucy began panting heavily, her nose dripping uncontrollably. I cranked up the AC as Emily stroked her in the back seat, using a plastic bag to prevent the liquid dripping from Lucy's nose from getting on her pants. "Oh my god. I can't believe I own this dog." (note: terrified and overwhelmed tone). "I can do this. We can do this." Our life together had begun.