My mother and I have volunteered with MoKan Border Collie Rescue for 6 years (since we got Maggie). From time-to-time, my mother would get e-mails about dogs that friends of the rescue were trying to place, this is what happened in March 2010. She gets an e-mail about a 10 month old sable-merle female border collie looking for a working home ... so what's the first thing she does? Sends me pictures of the pup.
I instantly called my mother saying I had to have her. That I was absolutely in love with that little red head with one blue eye, and she had to be mine. Of course my mother laughed at me and said "In your dreams."
Over the next few days, I pleaded with my mother, making lists of why I'd be a great home for her, and that I wanted my own dog to do agility with (which was one of the requirements for adopting this dog out). Little did I know, while I'm attempting to sway my mother, thinking that she's just laughing at me in her head and trying to find other home prospects for the dog, I later find out a little secret. My mother had messaged the first "mommy" of the puppy and asked if she would consider adopting to a college student. The woman was very apprehensive, but said she'd think about it. And while she was thinking, she asked around to some of her border collie friends asking if they knew anything about me. Well, luckily they knew my mom from agility and gave rave reviews. So the first mommy gave her blessing. Then came my mother's apprehension. She messaged all of her agility friends that knew me and asked, "Am I out of my mind?! Do you think she would be a good home for a dog? " And all came back with a resounding YES, Sarah would be a great home.
Meanwhile, my mother has me preparing a list of the expenses of having a dog, and a plan for caring for her (the name / practice of a vet I will be taking her to, different food choices, etcetera) and to decide if I was ready for that kind of a financial commitment. Of course, I spent hours online searching everything there was about dogs, types of food, reading ingredient lists, looking at types of ailments that plague dogs and the types of preventative measures for them (like I said, hours upon hours trying to prove that I was the perfect responsible home)
Then my mother comes home and asks to see my list. I read it off, show her all the things I looked up, try to wow her with how thorough I was in thinking of everything. "What about heartworm?" (of course, the one thing I forgot) "Well ... I just figured I'd use yours ... at least until I got some of my own!" She just smiled and put a bag on the table in front of me. I was puzzled. She just said, "open it" and inside the bag was a collar and tag, a bag of treats, a Wubba toy, and a few other first dog necessities. I started to squeal. I got her, just like I knew I would!
Then came the tough part. For the next two days my mother and I try to think of perfect names for her, but never really liked any of the 9349587349649234 billion names we came up with, until one afternoon my mother walks into my room with a goofy grin. "Reba." That was it. Reba. My little red headed country girl.
That next day, I drove to go pick her up. Luckily her first mommy lived right outside Columbia, Missouri (where I go to college), so we could stay the night at my apartment before heading back to meet her grandma, grandpa, and cousins in St. Louis. It was an interesting night. She didn't want to sleep in the crate, she just wanted to play. So we walked around my big gated apartment complex for over an hour, and then went inside to go to bed. During the night, she pulled all sorts of goodies into the crate to chew on and destroy ... but it didn't matter, because she was mine, and everything mine was also hers from now on. Especially, my heart...