Wesley

I first met a Dalmatian in the spring of 2004. I was on a road trip, and a friend of a friend had recently adopted Penny from a rescue group in Ontario. She was absolutely adorable. Over the next few months, I got to thinking that maybe Gimlet, my seven year old heeler mix, would like another dog in the house - a spotted dog. I contacted the group Penny came from, but they only had one Dal and her dominant personality wouldn't have gone over well with Gimlet. A little internet investigation led me to Dalmatian Rescue of Colorado, and numerous emails back and forth to Beth. As always, there were several Dals being fostered in and around Denver.

After some planning, Gimlet and I got in the car and drove to Denver from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan. I called a few of the fosters to arrange meetings. The first stop had a couple fosters. Holly brought out her first foster, a very young Dal mix. He had so much energy, and was so enthusiastic about meeting new people and a new dog. Gimlet was terrified, however, and hid behind me. Holly brought out the next foster, a Dally. He was interested in the new dog, but took his time introducing himself to Gim. Gim seemed to think he was ok, so we went for a walk. They behaved very well. I was very grateful, because Dally seemed like such a pleasant boy. That was that, and I called around to cancel meetings with the other fosters.

Dally turned out to be exactly the right Dal. He hasn't a mean or aggressive bone in his body. But that doesn't mean he wouldn't stick his nose under my elbow, or sneak his way between Gimlet and me for an ear scratch. His two favorite places in the world are in my lap on the recliner, or sprawled out on top of me on the couch. As long as he's got his human nearby, he's happy as can be.

His stay in Saskatoon was relatively short. In 2005 we moved to Kitchener, Ontario. The new yard is several times larger than they had in Saskatoon, so Gimlet and Dally were thrilled. And the winters are much milder here, so he no longer has to wear boots.

Fast-forward to 2010. We lost Gimlet, at age 13, to acute leukemia. I'd had her since she was about six weeks old, and I was a wreck. Even though they had never been particularly active playmates, it was easy to see that Dally missed her too. We kept each other company as best we could. Dally has never been much of a barker,but without Gimlet around whenever I left the house for more than a few minutes, he'd wander around barking. It wasn't enough to annoy the neighbors, but it seemed like he'd benefit from having someone to keep him company. And after a couple months I was getting to a point where another dog didn't seem like betraying Gim. So I started looking at the Dalmatian Rescue of Colorado web site again.

There were so many Dals to choose from. I was immediately interested in Wesley and Carmen. Beth let me know that Carmen had several applicants, and that an adoption was underway for Wesley. Emails back and forth went on a month, and I planned to hop in the car with Dally and head out to Denver. The trip was postponed for a week because I had some uncertainty - caused by my brother's dog becoming very ill and resurrecting feeling from Gimlet's illness, postponed again when I caught a cold, and postponed for a few more days for an unplanned trip with my brother. While out for the weekend with my brother, I planned to leave for Denver on Tuesday and bring Dally along with me. I contacted several of the foster families to arrange meetings.

Beth contacted me over that weekend, to let me know that there was a Dal in Omaha that wasn't on the web site. It was an adoption that seemed not to be working out, her name was Wesley. The same one I had inquired about! She thought I might be interested, or if not if I might bring Wesley back to Denver with me. I had resolved to see all the fosters I'd contacted before making a decision, but agreed to bring Wesley back to Denver as long as she got along well enough with Dally to be in the same car for 500 miles. I would have stopped near Omaha for the night anyway, so it fit well into my travel plans.

We arranged to meet Wesley and her adopter on Thursday morning in a park, to see if she got along well enough with Dally to make the trip, and if so get her moving toward Denver. The doggy introduction went well; Wesley was thrilled to meet a new dog. Dally seemed to think she was ok. Then she introduced herself to me, with a sloppy kiss on the nose. In hindsight, that probably did it. I wanted a little more confidence that they'd do alright in the car, so we took them to the yard of the adopters nearby home and let them off leash. They got along well there too, enough that I was sure we'd make it to Denver without any emergency veterinary visits. But I still wanted to see the other fosters before making a decision.

Wesley sat herself on the front seat, rather than climbing into the back with Dally. So I connected her by a short lead to the seatbelt, to keep her from helping me drive. But she probably didn't need it. She was so well behaved, sitting politely and watching out the windows. Once in a while she'd stretch out as far as she could, and give me a kiss on the cheek.

I only made it about 50 miles from Omaha before I gave in. Wesley was the one. I didn't need to see other fosters to know. The next rest area was another 40 miles, and that's where I stopped. I gave Beth a call, and said I didn't think Wesley was going to make it to Denver. We arranged to get the adoption contract and donation taken care of without my continuing on to Denver.

Sometimes things happen. If I hadn't postponed the trip to Denver, I wouldn't have been going out when Wesley needed a ride back. And while I'm sure that one of the other fosters would have worked out, Wesley has fit right in. She and Dally don't do a lot of playing with each other, but seem happy to have each other around. Neither of them is the sort that wants a lot of roughhousing. The both of them think they're lap dogs, but don't push each other out of the way competing for lap space. They both just want to be where their person is.

When she first got in the house, Wesley found the stash of toys that Dally and Gimlet never really played with. She carefully pulled each one out of the pile to test it out. The squeakers are her favorite.

I think she like it here, and I think she likes Dally and I. A couple of times somehow Dally and I have moved to somewhere else in the house while she slept. Both times, I heard a yelp and she started barking. When she found us, she had a wag that started at her nose.

Thank you to ALL the good people of Dalmatian Rescue of Colorado. The first time, five years ago, particular thanks to Beth and Holly. This time, special thanks to Beth and Paige; and to Wesley's previous unnamed adopter, all of whom where integral in getting Wesley into our home.

Samuel E.
Kitchener, Ontario, Canada

Dally                           

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