We adopted Arya (Aiya, 哎呀, puppy) on the labor day weekend of 2013. We were planning to go somewhere but we got lazy. Instead, because I wanted to look at cats at the shelter (even though we kind of agreed that the condo is not suitable for cat(s)), so we went to the shelter. At the shelter, the cat I wanted to entertain the idea of adopting was adopted already, so we went to check out the dogs, because Daniel loves dogs.
Daniel knew that there’s a beagle. She stood out among all the chihuahuas and the pitbulls. We checked her out through the glass. She sure was cute, and I noticed that unlike other dogs in the shelter, she was not excited when we show up at the window. She stayed in her bed, half acknowledged our presence. We went to the front desk to inquire about her and learned about her sappy story.
She was used as a breeding dog. Her vocal cord was removed and part of her ears were cut, for whatever reason. She was about 11-12 years old and she has been in the shelter for 3 weeks and no one really checked her out. Probably because of her age.
We went in to meet her.
I’m never a dog person and I was not familiar with dogs/how to deal with dogs. I didn’t know what to expect and I didn’t know how I was supposed to behave. But she was very mild. She just came over and smelled us for a bit. I think I found her acceptable. (Plus she did look adorable.)
We went home to sleep it over, because a life is not something to be rash about. And we decided, yes, we want to give her a home and we want to make the rest of her life as pleasant as possible to make up for her suffering (that we assumed she’s been through.)