Our newest family member came home this past Saturday: we adopted a puppy from Alabama! A beautiful 8 month-old German Shepherd we've named Freya. Finding her was a bit serendipitous; I sent our a fairly random email to a rescue organization up in New Hampshire (Loyal Hearts Puppy Rescue), inquiring about whether they had any young Shepherds available for adoption (it was one of several inquiries I sent out that week). I received a response telling me that they didn't have any Shepherds within their network, but knew of one in Alabama at a kill shelter. She was due to get euthanized in just a few days. They sent two pictures, and I fell in love with her right away - what a cutie!!!
With the understanding that we needed a dog who wasn't going to be aggressive with young children, they pulled her from the shelter, and put her in quarantine/foster care until she could be vaccinated, spayed and transported up here. Her foster mom reported that she was super sweet and mellow, and everyone who worked with her was falling in love with her. Researching her travel up here opened my eyes to a whole industry that revolves around rescuing dogs from the south and bringing them up to New England to foster and adoptive families. In fact, an 8-week TV documentary was made about the transport company (PETS) the rescue agency used to bring Freya up here - it was called Last Chance Highway, and documented the owners and workers of PETS and some of the animals and families they helped bring together.
Freya left Alabama on a Thursday morning, and arrived in Connecticut on Saturday afternoon. We were so excited to go meet her transport and see Freya for the first time!! R. could hardly stand the wait once we arrived at the meeting point, and I completely shared his excitement and impatience (although I took a more stoic Mom role for most of it). As soon as we met her, I think we all (including Freya) knew that this was the right fit all the way around. She has settled into our home and our hearts with lightening speed. How could she know, after only being with us for a few hours that she was in her forever home? Walking her that evening I took a fall and she bolted away, getting the leash out of my hand. I had a stab of real fear - we live on a busy road, and there was no telling where this dog, completely away from anything familiar, might go. But all she did was run back to our door and then look back at me. I called to her and she came running to me, huddling at my feet with her tail wagging. Freya knew she was home.