It takes about a month

I realized today that, despite all the muddy paw prints and all the extra time outdoors de-energizing puppy hyperactivity, despite the bigger vet bill and the chewed up toys, there is no way I could take Milo back to the Humane Society and drop him off now.   He's mine.  My dog.  His little black/brown body has wormed a place into our family.  I think it happened once he figured out how to get up and fall asleep next to me in the bed.  You know what they say: once you sleep with someone, you can't go back to the way things were...  Well, it's true.  I have well and truly attached.

In my experience this process takes about a month.  It took a month for me to stop feeling like I was babysitting Max after we brought him home from Russia.  I remember in the early days I would watch him playing on the floor and think, "What in the heck am I going to do all day with this baby?"  The hours seemed to crawl.  But sooner or later I got my groove back and we developed a rhythm to our days, our weeks, our life.  At about that month marker I caught myself cooing to him in the crib and it wasn't just acting any more.  The same thing has now happened with Milo. 

When I brought him home from the Humane Society, I had every intention of making things work out with Rosie and Max.  I was going to give it a full college try.   But in the back of my mind I had an out.  If Rosie couldn't hack a new dog, well, my first responsibility was to her, and Milo would have to find a new home.  While I don't yet have the connection with Milo I have with Rosie, he's definitely a member of our little pack now.  And you can't turn your back on pack.

I watched this (only somewhat emotionally manipulative) video on youtube last night.  It made me feel all happy and sad at the same time.  And noble.  I rescued a puppy!  Heck, I rescued two shelter dogs and an orphanage kid.   

But the thing is, I'm not too romantic or dewy-eyed about this whole process.   After I watched the video I went over and tried to snuggle Milo.  And he sort of moved away from me and looked disgruntled.  "Can't you see I'm working on this chewie," he was saying with all of his body language.  "It's not time for hugging."  After that initial honeymoon period - and it was a weekend honeymoon in all three cases - Rosie, Max, and Milo all got used to the status quo and it was pretty much "What have you done for me lately?" from there on out.  And that's the way it should be.  No one should have to have abandonment factored into their personal value quotient for life.  It wasn't any of their faults that someone or someones failed them early on.  They all deserved better, and I hope that's what we are doing for them.  Giving them what they were born deserving in the first place: a family and a place to feel safe and cared for.  

And when it comes right down to it, "rescuing" them was not a noble gesture on my part.  I wanted a dog and another dog.  I wanted a kid.  I adopted them for me - which does not negate the overall positive outcome, but I don't think I'm sloughing off time in Purgatory with my noble actions here.  Gratitude is nice, but it doesn't do much for a relationship for one person to be forced to remain in that state permanently.  Not that it's not nice to be appreciated, but kids and dogs aren't really that great at that, if we're being honest.  

What I got out of the deal with Milo was holes in my backyard and squashed flowers, dog barf in my car and numerous accidents to clean up in the house, but also a personal trainer, a home security system, entertainment, and a significant buffer against loneliness.  For some people that wouldn't be enough to offset the not inconsiderable personal inconvenience of a pet, but it is for me.  And when I need to feel a little more appreciated, I can always re-watch that video.