Einstein's Journey Home: an adoption story

Why is it easier to write on behalf of my dog?

If you’ve read my posts in the past there’s a trend around my personal relationship with writing.  I love the idea but find it really hard to get myself to do it.  Lately, in light of a commitment I made to write daily, I’ve found more ease writing a blog on behalf of my old dog Einstein.  Einstein has assumed the role as Citizen Discourse platform guru so he naturally has a profile and an opportunity to journal just like all of the members of Citizen Discourse.  I’ve found some success channeling my creative writing through his voice (which happens to be a British accent).  In the past few weeks Einstein has written about his meditation practice (sticking his head out the window of the car while getting his zen on), how his name impacts his identity and his struggle with worry.   Below is a journal entry posted to Citizen Discourse earlier today which I wanted to share on this blog.  Einstein is honored to have this chance to share his story and he hopes it encourages others on CD to do the same.

My Adoption Story, by Einstein Moses

Einstein's headshot

The first years of my life are pretty fuzzy.  I can’t really remember my mom or my dad or when I got separated from my family. I don't even know how many brothers and sisters I have. I'm pretty sure my family breed is soft-coated wheaten terrier and sheep dog, but even that isn't 100%.

I do remember my life on the streets.  I hung out on Airport Blvd in east Austin not far from Quality Seafood. There were a few of us strays in similar situations.  Dogs without a home.  A nice man who worked in the kitchen at Quality Seafood left food for us every night.  We were fed okra and other veggies,  all kinds of fish, mac and cheese and bread rolls.   I didn’t meander too far since it was a guaranteed meal and I could eat seafood all day.  Pro tip was that Tuesday night was lobster night!

One early evening I was trotting along minding my own.  A nice looking stranger pulled their van over, picked me up and dropped me at a facility I came to learn was a city shelter for lost or stray animals. I was sad and confused and preferred my life on the streets. 

At the shelter they inserted a tracking chip in me (without my consent!) neudered me (without my consent!) and then adopted me to a stranger (without my consent!).  I could have really used a lawyer-- my 4th Amendment rights were totally violated.

I felt nervous being in this new place.  I knew they were looking for homes for all of us.  I felt uncertainty about where I’d be going and who I’d be matched with.

My first adopted “family” was not very caring so I quickly found my way back to the streets.  I got picked up once again by the nice stranger who returned me to the shelter.  I know they called to have that family come get me but they never came.  I was glad.  But also scared.

At this point, I wasn’t feeling well and I learned I had gotten the dreaded condition called heart worms. The shelter didn’t have the resources to fix my condition.  It was more then they could afford.  I would be killed (can you imagine!!) unless someone came to rescue me.

Thank goodness, a really awesome non-profit organization, Blue Dog Rescue, saved the day.   (This helps explain why I love supporting nonprofits!) My foster mom’s name was Lisa.  Lisa and her nice family lived on a beautiful ranch with a bunch of other dogs and farm animals out in Round Rock, Texas.  I loved it there.  I played hard with my friends and learned all about team work and negotiating. Dogs can get all alpha on you if you don't have the right disposition.  It requires emotional intelligence to navigate so many personalities and I have a very high EQ.

 I learned quickly not to pee in the house and to respect furniture.  You’ll never catch me on the couch.  (not saying I don’t do it, you’ll just never catch me!)

I got to feeling healthier and happier.  One day, Lisa told me there was a girl who wanted to meet me and possibility take me to her home. 


It was a summer day in June and we met at a park not far from home.  Karen arrived with her sister and she seemed cool and nice.  I wanted her to like me. But, more importantly, I wanted to be sure I liked her.  This is my life, after all!

It’s a weird thing having people come to your rescue.  Who even said I needed rescuing?  I liked my new home.  But I did want a person to have my life adventure with and when I met Karen I felt like my person had arrived.

Days after Einstein's adoption was finalized.

Days after Einstein's adoption was finalized.

Life with Karen

We move around a lot.   I like getting to see so many new places, making new friends and checking out new parks. I try to stay in the flow when I’m on the move.  Since I’m a dog, I’m generally not privy to all the details like when we are moving, where we are going, how long will we stay.  A less wise pup might get all kinds of stressed by that uncertainty. The unknown that comes with change can be uncomfortable.

One area I haven’t mastered is the anxiety I feel when I know we are about to make another move and I start to worry that I’ll be left behind.  My solution to this is to position my body between the front door and the car so there’s no way Karen could forget me.  Yes, my position blocking the path often makes her job getting the car loaded more difficult but how else will I be sure I won’t get left? 

Einer positioned so he doesn't get left behind (as if!)

I'm a smart dog.  I see how my past has impacted my behavior today. My nervous energy when I see Karen pack the car up yet again reminds me of the times when I was left and the uncertainty that ensued.

No matter what, when the time comes to go, she lifts me up, puts me in the back seat, rolls down my window and together we drive off.  I stick my head out the window and find my peace.  


Post Script

If any of you human readers ever wondered why your dogs seem so joyous every single time you come home, it’s because we are!  We love you so much that we feel an overwhelming sense of gratitude every time we see you.