Teddy: A Gotcha Day Story
My bestest buddy turned 5 last month, so what better way to celebrate than to share his Gotcha Day story? Here’s the long, strange, yet rewarding journey of how I adopted Theodore.
My bestest buddy turned 5 last month, so what better way to celebrate than to share his Gotcha Day story? Here’s the long, strange, yet rewarding journey of how I adopted Theodore.
Actually, here’s how my mom adopted Quack/almost Jennifer(?). We’ll get there. Told you it was going to be strange.
The Dog-Gone Decision
After a few years of living on my own and flip-flopping on the idea, the isolation of the pandemic and my newly remote work-life made me decide: I wanted a dog.
I had grown up with two dogs in the family, but this was the first time I’d be taking care of (or residing with) another living thing since my sophomore year of college.
Many of my friends and family were excited about the idea. Some were possibly more excited than I, somehow. I wasn’t in a dark place by any means, but I’m sure they could more clearly see the gap in my heart that would best fit a four-legged companion.
And maybe I was reaching a point of living alone long enough that I was starting to get a little weird...? Who’s to say.
So, my search began in the summer of 2020. My criteria?
The dog had to be 25 pounds or less (apartment rules)
I wanted somebody athletic, who liked walks and hikes
Short hair — I prefer that *lewk*, and it cuts down on grooming costs
I was only interested in rescues
The ‘it’ factor, meaning I’d know the right dog when I saw them
Mr. Bartholomew
After a couple of months unsuccessfully crawling Pet Finder and local shelter sites, I found him. Mr. Bartholomew.
Or at least I thought I had.
My sister and a couple of friends donned masks and joined me at the humane society. That’s when we discovered Mr. Bartholomew (whose weight was not listed online, next to a misleadingly angled photo) was actually 80 lbs AND was currently being adopted.
I did meet with a chihuahua as the little guy was the only dog who fit the weight criteria (with 20 lbs to spare), but it wasn’t a match. He had been recovered from a dog hoarding situation and needed a lot of attention to rehabilitate. I just wasn’t able to commit to meeting those needs.
Suddenly… a Cat
You’d think we would leave the humane society empty-handed, but actually… we left with a cat.
My sister, who had never owned a cat and who hadn’t woken up that day planning to adopt a pet of any kind, talked herself, with help from our friends, into adopting Agatha.
Aggie has been part of the family for 5 years now. It’s funny to think that my search for Teddy brought her to us. Funny in a ‘life is strange’ kind of way, more than a ‘lulz’ kind of way.
Anyway, back to the dog adoption story:
With the human society trip behind us, sans a dog, plus a cat, I returned to crawling PetFinder. For almost six months… I found nothing. No viable options that were within a reasonable driving distance or the weight limit.
Then, in late December, I found one.
To the South Side—We Ride at Dawn! (Actually, More Like 11 a.m. but Don’t Quote Me)
Don’t ask me which one — I have completely forgotten. But thank you to that now mysterious dog. You led me to a nonprofit shelter on the south side of Indy.
You can probably guess the next part: I arrived at this shelter to meet this nameless pup, only to find out they had been adopted. Womp womp.
Of course, I hadn’t driven all that way just to go home. My mom joined me on this particular excursion, so we went to see what other canines needed homes.
Quack Has Entered the Chat
We had to wait outside the shelter door in the rain for a few minutes—this was peak COVID, and another family was in the small, echoey room packed with kennels. We entered to deafening barks from at least 30 dogs. They were well cared for, but their kennels were small and stacked on top of each other. I would have been barking, too.
We scanned each nervous-yet-adorable face. My eyes were drawn to a small cage door in the middle of the bottom row. It was so central to the stack, it was more like a cave.
Very quietly, a little orange dog came into the light. Ears pulled back in stress, with big brown eyes at first downcast, the dog’s pink nose eventually pointed to me with interest. This dog was the only one not barking, but the eyes were doing heavy lifting. Asking, “Can you get me out of here, please? I’m not a fan of this situation.”
The tag above the kennel door bore the name Quack. Quack was about a year old and 20 lbs. To this day, I can’t describe why, but I connected with Quack. The stats on that name card just sealed the deal.
He had the ‘it’ factor. I guess any fellow pet owners will get it. If you don’t, I hope you’re able to experience that feeling for yourself someday.
The attendant in the shelter told us Quack had just been fixed and had to stay in the kennel for now. I held my hand up to the crate door for an introductory sniff. A little kiss followed right after. As if I needed more proof that this was the dog for me.
Why My Mom Adopted a Dog for Me, a 27-Year-Old
I snapped a picture, then Mom and I immediately went to the office to claim Quack. This process involved another short wait outside in some late December rain. The wait was actually a blessing. It allowed us to make a game plan AND choose potential names. We’re efficient like that.
Because the Humane Society and a couple of other shelters had been so intensive about calling my apartment and my complex’s office had been so intensive about every small detail about a dog’s existence, we decided to simplify things. My mom would ‘adopt’ Quack.
Regarding names, we realized we didn’t know if Quack was a pup or puppette, so we chose a name for either outcome. For a boy: Theodore, Teddy for short. For a girl: I wish I could remember. Just know it was a people-name that was equal parts cute and questionable for a dog. (The pet names in our family so far: Sadie, Jeremy, Agatha — there’s a tradition to uphold here.)
The adoption interview was strange but fairly easy. Mom perfectly answered most of the office’s questions, and I stepped in on the few she wasn’t sure about. I played the role of supportive son helping his mother choose and bring home a new furry friend.
To be honest, we visit my parent’s house at least a few times a month so it wasn’t really a lie that Quack would enjoy their big back yard.
Everything went as planned, and the lady in the office approved the adoption and let us know Quack was a girl. We were told the little lady had been found on the street somewhere in Indy and had spent about a week at the Indianapolis Humane Society before being transferred to this private shelter. She was estimated to be 9 months old. She needed to stay at the shelter for a little longer to recover from being spayed.
Gotcha Day (Finally!)
With this information in mind, Mom and I returned about a week later. This was it! The day Quack was coming home with her—I mean me. It was December 30th, 2020.
I had already let my friends and family know the adoption was official and had done some shopping to prep the basics like crate, bowls, food, toys, two dog beds, etc. Yes, the dog was already spoiled before leaving the shelter.
I also saved a screenshot of this unfortunate typo from one of my grandmas.
We checked in at the office and made a beeline for the shelter. Quack was waiting for us—she seemed to remember us and knew what was coming. But as the attendant opened the crate door and Quack burst out to say “hi” before sprinting to door to the shelter’s yard, we heard “He’s so excited and he’s such a sweetheart, you’re going to love him!”
Quack/Quackette/Jennifer/Teddy? No Matter What, You’re Coming Home with Me
I didn’t care either way. This dog was going home with me no matter what. But we did have a double-take moment. “He?” I asked. “Yeah,” the attendant said back, also confused. “This dog is a he.”
Mom and I looked at each other and shrugged. Guess we weren’t bringing home (insert missing name here, maybe Jennifer?). We were bringing home Teddy.
Once in the yard, Teddy was all over us. He was and always has been a big fan of people, despite whatever he went through that landed him in the shelter.
My theory? Based on the facts he had severe separation anxiety as a puppy, severe anxiety in the car, and somehow was already housebroken a knew basic commands: I believe he was part of an unplanned litter and was either trained up a bit before being adopted by someone who then dumped him out of a car, or trained up a bit before being dumped out of a car by his original owners. We’ll never know for sure. But he’s a smart cookie, and I like to think he’s told me about his past in his own way.
He bounced around the yard, across mud and hay, between Mom, me, and a dirty stuffed unicorn. You could tell his puppy brain was cycling between heartbreaking desperation and heartwarming affection.
We loaded into my car and got on the highway. Teddy put his tiny front paws on the middle console while his back legs stretched as far as possible to stand him up on the front of my back seat. We tried to encourage him to stay fully in the backseat, but he refused. He still rides like that to this day.
A Beautiful Day One
The rest of that day was pretty eventful, but in smaller ways:
Teddy crying loudly the whole drive home
His first visit to PetCo
Meeting my dad at the fire station where he was on duty
Marking his territory in my bedroom within 30 seconds
He’s never had an accident inside unless he was sick—it was intentional to say “I’m home!”
Modeling his new harness and making himself at home on the couch
I still get grief for this because I had said, “No, dog on the couch!” and that lasted about 5 minutes
The first few months with him were a whirlwind—imagine a diabolical but adorable energy ball and some dude who’s a little out of his depth locked into a small apartment together. I’ll probably find future stories of that time to post here, like our attempt to go to a New Year’s Eve party the very next night, only to go home at 10 p.m. Teddy and I were both falling asleep mid-festivities.
It’s a Long Post. He Deserves It.
This entry got super lengthy, but all the parts of this story are important to me. Adopting Teddy is one of the best things I’ve ever done in my life. This origin story is now like a legend in my head. A little over five years later, and I’m still so happy we found each other.
If you read this far, thanks so much! Here’s an updated pic of the Tedster now. He’s definitely put on some muscle, and his nose is a little less pink. But he’s just as much a puppy now as he was then.
And he always will be.
