Today was the day we were finally adding a girl to our family of all little boys. She weighed 9 pounds and had curly red hair, just like I have. Her coloring matched the spots on my son, and he was excited to finally meet her after only seeing pictures. All my boys were excited. Her name was going to be Molly.
Molly is a mini goldendoodle, and this should have been a light-hearted post announcing her arrival in our family.
After filling out 29 applications and queries for goldendoodle rescues where I was never quite fast enough, or didn’t have the right fence or companion dog, we chose this puppy sight-unseen and arranged for her to be held for several weeks until we could pick her up.
A week before pickup, things didn’t seem to add up. The lady we were led to believe was the owner seemed to be more of a puppy agent. Records or any sort of paper trail were nonexistent, contact information for the family’s vet was unavailable, and the agent conveniently went into labor followed by multiple surgeries in the exact time frame that she promised to send all paperwork and vet records.
As much as we wanted this puppy, the red flags were not only waving, but they were shouting in our faces.
We had promised our boys a puppy today. We had arranged for someone to watch our boys while my husband and I made the 8-hour drive, and we had begun picking out a girl name.
Suddenly, the option of no was thrown out on the table.
The agent was as accommodating at first, then she become hostile and passive, and then polite again. During our drive home from the beach, we began googling the piecemeal information she did send after I asked her repeatedly for it: phone numbers, names, and addresses. Veterinarian phone lines were conveniently broken and were after-hours at this point, anyway. The name of the vet turned into an Animal Emergency Trauma Clinic, not a vet that would have an established relationship with a family. Glaring spelling errors on websites screamed “unprofessional.” It was the textbook example of a situation to avoid and I felt like a fool.
Desperate to believe I had not been misled, I kept the option of following through with the purchase open. After all, we had already sent a deposit to hold her while we were on vacation. I continued what limited research I could from the fledgling information I had been given. At this point in my research, the red flags were not only expected, they were almost comical. In fact, every single bit of information ended as a red flag.
My husband and I shared our hearts with each other. We avoided any “I told you so’s” and hurt feelings by talking honestly and straight-forwardly. Completing the final leg of our 10-hour drive home from the beach (side note: what a way to spend my birthday!), we decided to cut our losses and say no to this puppy. I apologized to him for wasting our money.
Yes, we had invested in all the puppy supplies and a nonrefundable deposit on a listing with just enough verbiage to make a PayPal dispute unlikely. But we had avoided the toll of another full day of driving the morning after the exhaustion of vacation travel. And more importantly, we avoided what could have amounted to costly vet bills, potential hereditary diseases, bad temperament, and emotional heartbreak on our part. We’ve been through the loss of a puppy before, which was the driving force behind all my second-guessing about this particular purchase.
It’s hard to accept that we’ll never actually know if this puppy was, in fact, a “lemon” guaranteed under the state’s Lemon Law or if she would have become a beloved member of the family. But even without meeting her, we feel right about accepting that we’ll just never know.
We will regroup, we will return the unopened puppy supplies to the store, and we’ll revisit the idea of adding a dog to our family when we feel ready, if ever. What I do know, with confidence, is that we made the best decision for our family. We’ll use this opportunity where we had to say “no” as a way to savor a slow, easy recovery day after our glorious beach vacation, instead of another frantic, worrisome day of travel to meet a puppy purchased sight-unseen, forking over even more money to complete the purchase.
The boys have been completely distracted today with their new-to-them bikes, we are up to our elbows in unpacking, and there has been no mention of the puppy this morning.
A few years ago, I would have been too proud to admit my mistake, even to myself. I’m certain that I would have piled my entire family into our SUV and followed through with the purchase, even despite my gut telling me no. And I never would have written a post like this, vulnerable to judgment and harsh feedback about buying a puppy or reassurance that we’ll find another when the time is right.
Thankfully, I read “Goldendoodle” by Kathryn Lee free on Hoopla at exactly the right time on vacation, as she gave me all the questions to ask and the pitfalls to avoid. She helped me do my research and see past what my heart wanted to see and what my brain had been trying to justify.
Even though we lost our deposit (I’ll still follow through with a PayPal dispute), it was a valuable learning experience for me. It’s okay to second-guess myself, to back out of a commitment that does not feel right for me and my family, and even to renege on a promise to my boys that could have done more damage in the long run than good. It gives me perspective on other larger, more important commitments in my life.
It all seems like a silly matter to pray over, when there are far bigger things to pray about, but I also know that God cares about every detail in our lives, big and even very small –He wants us to come to Him continually.
“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose.” Romans 8:28
I will see this lesson learned for the gift that it is and move forward. I’ll turn these lemons into lemonade. The puppy will find another home.
Tending Wild 