8 years ago we went into a pet store (they had an SPCA adoption program) fully intending to get a cat…

I had grown up on a farm and had sworn that I’d never EVER have pets as an adult, while Dustin (whose family had A  – singular – cat at any one time during his childhood) had other plans. I compromised. One cat, rescue…. preferably the one that nobody would take home. A fixer-upper. We came out with Eve.

He PROMISED he’d just hold her and put her back, but I knew the second he laid eyes on her, I was SOL. I probably could have threatened divorce, but it happened enough times over the course of the next 6 months that he probably got his fill.

Imagine work, 9 classes, an internship, and a husky puppy cruising your condo with tummy problems. UGH. I wouldn’t wish puppyhood on my worst enemy.

2 weeks later we went to grab Eve food and there, sitting in the same small, glass cage was her sister. Only, now at double the size, she had gone from a cute pup that would inevitably be someone else’s best worst mistake to a bit of a buffoon. She looked like a caged circus animal. Isis (Ice) was going stir crazy. Starved for attention, with barely enough space to move around, she was spinning in circles. I cried and told Dustin we HAD TO bring her home.

I applied human logic to dogs: she would be Eve’s best friend.

Ummm, yeah… not so much. Eve HATED her. Our home was now HER home. She was the queen of the castle and the spun out, crazed dog (whose 2 extra weeks “behind bars” ensured her lunacy to present day) was public enemy number 1.

Before you think, wow, you guys… way to go, buying impromptu puppies from pet stores….I want to start by saying that we’re COMPLETELY against anything short of a well thought out, planned purchase from a reputable breeder. But even better yet, ADOPT. I can give you a million reasons why our decisions were ill thought out, and all of them have had consequences, but its a bit of a sorry-im-not-sorry situation. Its hard to say you regret the best thing that ever happened to you.

6 months later, we FINALLY got it right with dog number 3.

Montana was a re-home.

I hate to speak poorly of anyone who was self-aware enough to know the dog needed a better home, but there were MAJOR red flags that this was more than simply being in over your head with a husky. She was underweight, with fleas AND worms, and had been living on a deck in her own feces. She had also been kennelled in a standard crate with another full sized dog and at 6 months, had developed a slight curvature of her spine from not being able to stand up fully and turn around.

And then there was the noise. OMG. The noise.

They had said she was “a bad dog” but after her first walk we weren’t sure WHAT we’d gotten ourselves into. She literally screamed to the point that neighbours came out of their houses.

Upon further inspection (when we finally got the screaming banshee home) it turned out she’d never been walked and the pads of her feet were like a newborn puppies. Who doesn’t walk a dog in 6 months?!?

Initially, Montana was scared of everything. Which was fine with Eve, who had moved past hate to complete indifference, but Ice had found her soulmate. The only problem was that bulldozer Ice and timid little Montana were like oil and water initially. Imagine a type A personality rushing up to an anxiety riddled school mouse (with an air horn for a mouth).

It took some getting used to, and a lot of training, but minus a few minor brush ups – and a dew claw accident – they really are the three best friends (that anyone could have 😉 ) And our family is complete.

Even Eve plays with Montana when she doesn’t think we’re looking (wouldn’t want to ruin her reputation).

Our house is a dog house.

And a cat house (we now have two).

A zoo.

And we wouldn’t have it any other way.

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