After all the others, he is "the one"

I've been pretty quiet about this whole "adopting a boxer" thing, until last month, where I sweetly stated the following on Twitter:

I'm *this.close* to saying F*$% this adoption place.

8:29 AM Sep 30th from TwitterBerry

We have officially decided to pass on this boxer rescue, which I will now call Lick-my-ass Boxer Rescue. There are a couple of other boxer rescues in our area, and I'm sure we will look into them, but right now I'm so beat down by it that I would prefer to shoe shop online. How about these?:

*As a side note, I can't afford any of these damn boots. I mean, I could, but I would have the guilt FOREVER.*

Anyway, while I drool over the can't have's, let me give you the short version of Lick-my-ass boxer rescue agency:

We filled out the paperwork the very end of July. We waited.

And waited.

Finally, mid-August, we get an email that they are processing our paperwork, & should have someone call us to set up a home visit.

End of August: home visit by the most annoying bitchface volunteer evah. She immediately rubs me the wrong way, questioning how we care for Daisy. Then she starts steering us away from the dogs we are interested in, one of which we met the day before at a dog adoption event. She also starts steering us towards dogs we have not been interested in. She also throws in, "You probably don't want to get a dog that will take your attention away from your daughter." I hate her. I make faces at her after she leaves.

Mid September: We meet dogs, but none that we originally wanted to meet.

Dog 1: Obsessed with the tennis ball so much that he has to be dragged back to his foster mom's car, barking, pulling, & foaming at the mouth. Not at all interested in us, although he was great with my girl.

Dog 2: Adopted before we could meet him.

Dog 3: We meet a sweet dog that just had tumors removed w/ no biopsy results yet. We like him, of course.

Dog 4: Mysteriously, he "became aggressive" the day we were supposed to meet him, so they cancelled the "meet & greet" until they "can figure out what is going on with him". They assure me his profile is being taken off of their site, that we will get to meet him soon.

Dog 5: We don't want to meet him, so I avoid the foster mom's email.

Dog 6: We grow interested in this guy, seeing that he supposedly has a sweet personality. We meet him, and he is very sweet with us. But when he meets Daisy? He tries to eat her face off. Several times. And she's a patient old lady, but she could only take it for 35 minutes or so before she tried to take his face off. He had to be dragged out of our home.

Yeahhhh, not so much.

Dogs 7, 8, & 9: They give us the wrong information about several dogs, all of which we don't get to meet.

By this time, I am more than beat down. They start emailing us pictures of dogs that are new to the rescue, and I immediately respond to the ones that sound like a good fit. We do not get to meet any of these guys. 4. 4 damn dogs that we don't get to meet because the lady is a bitchface. And they have these random excuses for it: "Oh, another family asked to meet him before you did" (even though I responded to the email a full 3 minutes after it was sent to me), or "He's not really 3, he's 7", or "He's not a good fit for your family".

Then the biopsy results come back on Dog 3. Not good. I take the results to my vet, to get an opinion from a trusted, well-liked individual. He says to RUN, not walk, away from this sweet boy. Based on the results, he will surely have more tumor issues. I can't do this. I can't adopt him, only to have him be so sick, only to have to put him to sleep if he gets too sick. I just can't. I still miss my old man dog, and I can't do this shit again so soon. I can't do it to me, my girl, our old lady dog. No.

So I tell them of our decision concerning Dog 3.

That's when all the shitty emails begin. They are pissed that hubby compared adopting him with buying a lemon of a car. They start questioning our "financial ability" to care for a boxer after I stated that I didn't want to incur a cost of more than my mortgage payment right off the bat. Then they want to know if we have really researched the breed: Are we aware how common tumors are in boxers? Are we aware of their needs? Then they get upset that we might not care enough about our 'fur family members', how they do not agree that we have felt steered by them, that they do not need to justify why we couldn't meet certain dogs, that they "must be doing something right", since they have had over 1100 dogs adopted out in the last 5 years. FML.

SHOOT ME NOW.

So, after a few days of emails, we are done. As of September 30th, we are done. We stop responding to the snotty emails from the head of Lick-my-ass Boxer rescue.

After almost 2 weeks of nothing, we decide to fill out the application for another boxer rescue in the area. On October 11th, we fill out the application, look at the dogs' profiles, and pick out a few that we would like to meet.

On October 12th, I get an email back from this rescue, asking for a bit more information.

That same day, Lick-my-ass emails me about a new foster. I guess they didn't read our last email about being done with them? I calmly respond that we will not be adopting a dog with them. The end.

On October 13th, I receive a call from the foster mom of one of the dogs at this new rescue, stating that she would like to see our home and bring a dog, King Tut, for us to meet.

We meet King Tut on the 16th. He is sweet & gorgeous & way too skinny.

We ask to meet him again on the 18th, when it isn't raining, so we can walk him w/ our old lady dog.

We get approved on the 18th.

He comes over and stays.

He is ours.

Here is our Max:

He looks a little out-of-sorts here, after less than 24 hours with my crazy kid & my crotchety old lady dog. But he is sweet and silly and soft and so loveable. He is playful in the mornings. He loves all of the neighborhood dogs. He is scared of my hubby, but is growing more comfortable with him by the day. He fits here.
He also pees & poops on the floor if he's at home more than 5 hours w/out us. He has torn up the most random things, including one of my flip flops, a throw rug, and a My Little Pony. We bought him a crate this past weekend, and he loves it. No complaints from him at all about being in it at night or during the day when I am gone.
He loves to lie on me & nibbles me when I scratch his side. He finally growled this morning, staring out the front door at the pumpkins on the porch. He "talks" to me in the morning when I am getting ready, sitting proud on my bathroom rug, making sweet puppy eyes at me. He follows my girl everywhere, and likes to watch her splash in the bathtub.
He is stealing our hearts.
*******
As for Lick-my-ass Boxer rescue, this week I emailed the one foster mom we really got along with. She is the sick dog's foster mom. I sent her a picture of Max, & asked about her sick boy. He is doing well, she says, and is planning to adopt him in spite of his health issues. We discussed the similarities in personality between the two boxers. She is happy for us. I can only hope she lets the assholes that run that agency know just how successful we were with another agency.