Nea Fane – Un Biet Român Pripășit în America / A Hapless Romanian Stuck in The US

First one was Indie.

They (Indie and The Foster Mom) came to us and we met in the small park near our house. She was much, much smaller than on the website description. They said she is twenty pounds, she was barely ten. At the age of two and a half years she was still doing her business inside, no one had taught her to go outside.

Baloo stepped on her, by mistake, she made number one and number two on Irina, by mistake, out of fear; I said “No, thank you!” and off they rode away into the sunset. She needed a human family with a lot of patience and with or without a gentle, well-behaved dog.

Next, Irina filled out about twenty six more applications, all kind of breeds, bigger, smaller, furry, bald … I was stunned at her perseverance, Baloo was enough for me, I really didn’t want another dog, but she did want another dog to entertain Baloo, actually to be hers because Baloo had chosen me as his favorite human, and she was dogless, so …

Irina knew them all by heart, she gave me a report after each answer or non-answer of the foster moms: Daphne wants a swimming pool, CJ has a lot of requests, those two brothers are in Texas (hmmm, I was almost taken for a ride, their humans asked me for shipping money first), there is another one in Flagstaff.

I didn’t pay attention to the Flagstaff statement, it’s an almost three hours drive up North, into the mountains, who’s so crazy enough to go there …?
What do you mean, who? My Irina!

On Thursday, the 10th of a September, after Cosmin finished work, they got behind the wheel in Louise (the car I bought for Baloo), and started driving all the way up, to get THE dog.

I was on-call after hours, at work, I had to be at most fifteen minutes away from the computer, so I couldn’t leave the house to go with them. Not that I cared for a new dog, as I said, Baloo was enough for me.

Finally, around 11:30 at night, they returned with a girl named Osa (bear in Spanish), she looked like Anca and Bogdan’s Rhea, so alike that Irina called her Rhea at least ten times that evening.

On her way back, Irina called and she told me, very serious, to have Baloo sound asleep when they arrive so he’ll not hear anything! I thought this to be a very funny idea, Baloo hears a butterfly flying from a hundred feet away. He knew that Mommy is coming home even before she opened the garage door. He got up, agitated, he knew something was going on, sniffed around, met Osa, Osa growled back and showed her teeth. A shiver ran down my spine.

Good girl! She doesn’t bark. She walks on a leash without pulling (wow). She wants to sit next to a man. She slept alone very well. She likes the car. She has all the vaccines. She is five years old, found on the edge of the Indian reservation back in January, the former owners asked us for forty bucks for her, a very small amount, symbolical. She was p.e.r.f.e.c.t.

A little scared/wild though. She looked at Baloo and growled. I shuddered when I saw those sharp teeth. The chances of kumbaya diminished with each interaction.

On Friday morning we took her for a walk, what a pleasure, what a joy! “Get the dogs to know each other, to interact, to become friends”, she said. I was so nervous with these two dogs that my head hurt. They were growling at each other, there was no chemistry at all.

My Baloo, alpha dog, a real man’s man (or dog’s dog, better said), didn’t want to let them walk in front. But, on the other hand, he didn’t want to walk first, either (quite the gentleman). He didn’t care that the sidewalk was too narrow. He didn’t care that Irina always walks way faster than I do. We had to walk side by side. That morning’s walk was like a torture for me, it seemed endless. Irina was purring with happiness.

In the evening, I was sitting at my desk, still on-call, with Osa by my side and Baloo at the office door, on the outside, crying and being very sad that he’d been replaced. My heart melted and I let him into the room: big mistake – smelled each other, sniffed each other, growled at each other, and they started fighting each other! Wild fight, with barking and biting, dog fighting to the max. In a moment of brilliance I got between them, just to break the fight. Thirty minutes later I was at Urgent Care, getting stitches and tetanus shots. Baloo was home, licking his bloody paw, Osa was like a queen in the middle of the bed, all victorious.

When I got home from the hospital, Irina was making lists with pros and cons, who to leave and who to stay. Let Osa go, or Baloo and me. Surprisingly enough, she said that she would give Osa back, but on Tuesday, because the former owner was gone for the weekend and she had nowhere to leave her.

That was Friday night.

Summary: Baloo, stressed out and hurt, me, stressed out and hurt, Osa, victorious, Irina, mad at me, like ‘DIDN’T YOU KNOW THAT YOU HAD TO KEEP THEM SEPARATE?’ mad.

On Saturday morning I went shopping like I always do and, while I was out, a friend calls and tells me that Rhea (Bogdan’s dog) suddenly died something like eight hours ago and that Bogdan is heartbroken. “He should take Osa,” I said, throwing a curveball. And it worked!

To finish the story about Osa, Bogdan came, looked at her, FaceTimed with his lady (who was in Romania) and with Osa (who was in my office), took her home, changed her name, and now they think she is the most wonderful dog that ever lived.

On Saturday night I tell Irina, sad, yet very nervous: “Would you calm down, please? Would you stop looking for dogs? We’ve seen as many dogs as we could. I’ve had enough!” At which Irina looks through me, raises an eyebrow and says: “Obviously you don’t read my emails. Tomorrow at 9:30 we’re going to get a puppy.”

I mean, we’ll get, statement, not doubts about it, no let’s see, no let’s talk, no let’s plan, no … we’ll get a puppy!

“Let Baloo choose and see which dog comes to him. This is how the internet says we should do it”, she said. I smiled, a frozen smile on my face, the only thing left for me to do.

At the easternmost part of the city, in an old lady’s backyard, close to the mountains, sixty minutes or so from our house, there were eight puppies, oh-so-cute, from a mutt mother and an even mutt-ier father, if such a word ever exists (because such a father definitely exists).

It was by appointment only, as the non-pitbulls were (and still are) a hot commodity (plus, let’s not forget, we were in full Pandemic mode, Covid and all – everybody wanted a dog to spend the lockdown with). When we got there there were only seven dogs left, one was already adopted and, of course, even if Irina only got a glimpse of him, she was sure that we just missed The One.

The old lady’s helper brought the puppies out of the house one by one, so Baloo will not be stressed out, to choose his little friend easier. Baloo, the alpha dog, even if he was explained what he has to do (we read him from the Internet) ignored the instructions and all the rest of the puppies (like any respectable great pyr does) and began inspecting the lady’s yard, square inch after square inch. The lady was in awe of how little Baloo listened to us and how well he did nothing of what he was supposed to do. She kept mumbling something about obedience classes. We kept pretending we didn’t understand English. Like Baloo, but human versions.

Those eight puppies that were seven, because The One was just adopted, when they saw themselves outside, started running each in a different direction. Irina tells me: “get the most energetic one”. “That’s exactly what I’m going to do,” I said, and I went straight to the only one who sat in the shade and did nothing.

Why did I end up choosing and not Irina or Baloo? Baloo was not interested at all in any of the puppies, and Irina got overwhelmed, and when she gets like this she starts speaking two languages in the same time, so I ended up getting The Look and she said: “You choose!”

And the rest is history.