Once I decided to purchase my own home after becoming frustrated with the entire renting process my boyfriend and I knew we wanted to add a dog to our already eclectic array of pets. My boyfriend, Vasco, has wanted a dog his entire life and as I start leaving my early twenties behind the commitment of a dog didn't appear as daunting as it once did. We discussed what we wanted in a dog - older, medium energy, house broken, and good with cats.Little did we know then that we'd be bringing home a 8 month old, deaf, semi-house broken, terrier mix.
I first met Xena (formerly Callie) voluntering at an adoption event for Last Hope K9 Rescue. Was assigned to the big dog room but about halfway through the day one of the volunteers walked in with a small, almost pure white, shaky little pup. Gave her a quick pet and shortly afterwards heard the volunteer holding her tell someone else they thought she was deaf but needed a vet to confirm. Didn't think much of it at the time and was quickly pulled back into the chaos of a room filled with rambunctious dogs.
Weeks passed and I saw pictures of Callie pop up on my news feed. More time passed and I was astonished that this adorable puppy, now confirmed as being deaf, still hadn't been adopted. One day, I finally broke and commented on a picture of her snuggled up with two other dogs inquiring if she was alright with cats. After a confirmation from the rescue, and her foster mom, I had essentially set my mind on applying.
Of course, my "go for it" attitude led me to forget about my boyfriend's input so that evening we talked about the possibility of bringing a deaf dog into our home. To say he was reluctant at first might be a slight understatement. Understandably he was concerned about the challenges associated with a deaf dog while all I could see was a pup who needed our help. After further conversations, we agreed to apply to adopt and well, the rest of it will soon tell itself.
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