I hugged my three-year-old rescue dog Moe tighter than usual when I heard the disturbing news about Kristi Noem shooting her puppy Cricket. Unlike the South Dakota Governor, I showered my dog with kisses, not bullets.

Surely a 14-month-old German wirehaired pointer like Noem’s could have been rehomed. Placing an unwanted dog in a no-kill shelter or any number of rescue organizations would have been easy for the Governor. 

Finding a rescue dog that fits your lifestyle may not be as easy but the payoff can be priceless. It was for me.

Searching for My (Canine) Soulmate

My long journey to finding a rescue dog began late last September. As the first nippy autumn day in New York began, I grabbed my puffer jacket for the first time that season. Sticking my hand in the pocket. I felt the hard crunch of the omnipresent dog biscuits always nestled there. 

My late dog Stanley’s treats. Still bereft, my husband and I had lost our beautiful Labrador Retriever in August, one day after he turned 14.

I should not have been surprised to find this biscuit, since no pocket — whether pants, shorts, or sweatshirt — ever went without a dog treat at the ready. Yet the sudden tactile feel of the bone-shaped treats brought tears to my eyes. 

But it also felt like a sign that it was time to bring a new canine companion into my life.

My puppy-raising years were behind me. I would search for an adult dog. Think of it more like the “Golden Bachelor,” canine edition.

Having raised three rambunctious puppies over four decades, I knew now at 68 that my puppy-raising years were behind me. I would search for an adult dog who needed a home. Think of it more like the “Golden Bachelor,” canine edition. Which dog would get my rose – or Milk-Bone?

I cast a wide net in my search. I considered everything from do-good rescue organizations and no-kill animal shelters to former service dogs and breeders offering older retrievers who have reached retirement age after years of faithful breeding and now needed a more laid-back lifestyle.

Welcome to the World of Doggie Speed-Dating

My first encounter was doggie speed-dating set up by an online rescue organization. I attended it outside a Petco store on the bustling streets of New York City. After a brief, timed 10-minute meet-and-greet with a dog, they wanted me to decide on the spot to adopt him. If not, bam, it was onto the next dog for the same allotted time. 

New to this kind of matchmaking, I wasn’t ready to get hitched in the time it took to preheat an oven.

Most of my search was done online, and the Internet is littered with paw prints making it hard not to be overwhelmed. As a recent dog widow unfamiliar with the doggie dating scene, wading through so many choices was daunting. Navigating my way through Petfinder.com (the Tinder of the dog world) and being confronted with thousands of dog portraits with irresistible descriptions was intimidating. 

Navigating my way through Petfinder (the Tinder of the dog world) and being confronted with thousands of dog portraits was intimidating.

Having always adopted a puppy in person from responsible local breeders, I began to wonder, “Could a gal find love online and commit to a lifetime of canine love without ever first meeting in real life?”

Had I Been Catfished – or Dogfished?!

This online search was not far removed from online dating with its pros and cons. And sad to say, there were a lot of cons (literally) out there. I found myself exposed not to catfishing but dogfishing: So-called purebred breeders preying on the vulnerabilities of those like me who were in an emotional place. The risk of deception and misrepresentation you find on dating sites were alive there.

So-called purebred breeders prey on the vulnerabilities of those like me who were in an emotional place.

Initially, I joined several social media groups offering Adoptions of Labrador Retrievers, the breed I was hoping for. Early on, while I was still quite misty-eyed, there was a high-pressure “breeder” easily luring me in. The bait was a picture-perfect AKC dog, an endearing description that tugged at my heart, and a miraculous promise of door-to-door delivery of the pup.

I found this too-good-to-be-true breeder on Facebook, but he lacked a website. He promised doggie delivery to my home but curiously never inquired where I was located. His own location seemed to shift around geographically. He repeatedly promised that he would provide me with the requested AKC papers, documents, and health information I asked for. 

Once he dropped off the dog, that is. Not before. Even before I hinted at any serious interest, he was persistent about getting a hefty deposit for a dog whose picture was likely taken from some other pet site.

Getting a New Dog: The Hunt Continued

Like online dating, there was the obvious overemphasis on physical appearances and I learned to expand my “type” to allow for a broader range of connection. From childhood on, I have always had male dogs. Now I opened my search, happy to check any and all gender categories.

I was open to mixed breeds. If a sweet dog had been the product of a one-night stand between a Lab and a Beagle, that was fine for me.

I was still drawn to the familiar breed of Labrador Retriever but was open to mixes. If a sweet dog had been the product of a one-night stand between a Lab and a Beagle, that was fine for me. 

One woman from a rescue group angrily took me to task for previously buying a dog from a breeder when so many dogs were in need. This was the same woman who admonished me when I expressed my fondness for yellow labs. When asked what sort of dog I was looking for and I answered that I had a soft spot for blondes, she implied that I was nothing short of racist for rejecting black dogs. Sputtering, I tried to explain it was merely a personal preference. I was open to labs and lab mixes of all colors. The experience was rattling and deflating.

Am I Too Old to Adopt a Dog?

But none as rattling as having my age enter the equation of adoption. The last time I looked for a dog I was in my 50s, and lived in a large suburban house on Long Island with a sprawling fenced-in yard and in-ground pool. A dog paradise.  Now, as my husband and I have recently downsized to a rental with unfenced property, I was met with tremendous resistance from the rescue organizations where the requirement of a fenced-in yard was non-negotiable. 

The breeder felt this 5-year-old dog would be better suited with a younger couple.

My 35-plus years of experience as a hands-on, devoted dog mom, fell on deaf ears. As did my description of a huge dog park and private beach less than five minutes from my home for the dog to play. Then there were the awkward but necessary age-related questions. If the dog outlived us, what arrangements would we make for the dog? Thoughtfully, I laid out a plan.

Age would rear its head once again with a dog that I was certain would be mine. I met “Babs” online in November. She was a ravishing, foxy mama who was from a loving home and had served her time as a first-rate AKC Labrador Retriever breeding dog but was looking to change careers. She had earned the right to be a dog whose only role was to be doted on. This former working gal who lived in North Carolina seemed to check all the boxes. A deal was struck, pictures and videos shared by the owner, and plans to drive down to pick her up in late December were made.

But Babs was not meant to be. After ghosting me online for a few days, her owner finally wrote that she was selling Babs to someone else. She felt this 5-year-old dog would be better suited with a younger couple. I found myself at a loss for words.

Meeting My Match

After so many months and so many different adoption forms, rescue organizations, shelters, and breeders, they all began to blur. Ironically, at the same time I was looking for a new dog, I was interviewing a new therapist and the names of the revolving door of dogs and therapists blur. Was Ellie a shrink or a Golden Retriever from Georgia?

Eventually, through the help and connections of friends, I was steered towards a Lab rescue group that could see beyond my age, or fenced-in yard, and saw decades of experience, a  loving heart, and home. A home that would welcome a needy 2-year-old Louisiana lab we named Moe into our lives with open arms.

Not just a part of the family, he would be the focus of the family.

On the first snowstorm of the season in January, I drove an hour and a half up to Nanuet, New York, to pick up this Southern boy who had been traveling up north for four long days in an 18-wheel truck. He was in for a whole lot of life changes and weather was only one of them. Sure, there were the Noo Yawk accents he’d have to adjust to and an unfamiliar house shared with two strangers. But the biggest life change for this rescue dog was the amount of love and time he would now get. Not just a part of the family, he would be the focus of the family.

When Moe jumped into my arms, I pulled out one of Stanley’s treats from my pocket and handed it to him, forever bonding my past and present. And confirming that a gal could find love online and commit to a lifetime of canine love without ever first meeting in real life. Whatever his age. Or hers.