Losing Cali has been incredibly hard. The past few weeks have felt like an emotional roller coaster—grief and sadness one day, joy and purpose the next. Taking care of a foster dog brought real happiness, even though saying goodbye when she was adopted came with a twinge of sadness too. I was thrilled for her to find her forever home, but part of me missed her already.
Now, I’m facing all the questions that come with opening your heart again: Am I ready for a new dog? What kind of dog is right for me? When is the right time? Male or female? Short hair or long hair?
A Familiar Face
I spent countless hours scrolling through adoptable pups, but one little face kept popping up—Henry. A tiny Chihuahua mix, around 8 months old and just 5 pounds, he showed up again and again in my social media feeds. It felt like a sign.
About ten days ago, I gave in to the feeling that I needed him in my life. I submitted my application late one night, and by the next morning, I got a call from the rescue—Henry was still available, and my application was pre-approved.
The rescue contacted my vet, called a reference, and asked for photos of my home and yard. If all went well, Henry would be arriving on a transport from the South in a couple of weeks. I’d need to head to Connecticut to pick him up—but I was all in.
A Change of Heart
But it was all just too much, too fast. I panicked and backed out. I told the adoption counselor I wasn’t ready—that it felt overwhelming and rushed.
A week went by. But Henry kept showing up. His little face was still everywhere. And the house? It felt so empty.
I missed it all—the morning walks, the quiet companionship during the day, the routine of feeding a dog, the warmth of a snuggle on the couch. The absence was loud. And the feeling that maybe I was ready started creeping back in.
Back to Henry
By Wednesday, I’d had enough. The emptiness, the second-guessing—I was ready. It was time for a new dog.
That night, I talked to my husband, then messaged Henry’s adoption counselor: Any chance he’s still available?
She replied almost immediately—he had just become available again. She said she’d call me in the morning.
All In (and a Little Freaked Out)
Yesterday was chaos. I was making a video tour of the house, fielding rapid-fire questions about the dog, the adoption process, the costs, vet info, pick-up day and location. Sending the deposit. Confirming everything. It seemed crazy that Henry had been adopted, and then the people had to cancel, the very day that I reached out about him again.
And then—I panicked.
How can I adopt a dog I’ve never met? What if he hates me? What if he hates Dave? The stress hit hard. I made myself physically sick just trying to process it all.
Thankfully, my daughter and a few close friends talked me through the spiral. By last night, the panic had softened into something else—excitement. I was still nervous, but I felt that spark of joy and anticipation.
I made plans to pick him up. I ordered the martingale collar the rescue requires. I started a list of supplies to bring for the car ride—everything I could think of to make him feel safe and comfortable on his way home.
This Morning: Clarity
This morning, I woke up to two videos from Henry’s foster mom—and just like that, I knew. I’d made the right decision.
This little boy is perfect. His tiny paws, his dark eyes, that little face… I’m already in love.
We’ll figure it out together. He’ll learn our rhythm, and we’ll learn his. He’ll adjust to our home, and we’ll make space for each other. It’s all going to work out.
See you soon, little Henry.
(Or… whatever your new name will be!)
Has anyone adopted a dog without meeting it? Have you picked up from a transport? Send me your advice, thoughts, tips, etc.
