333

The nice lady told me to arrive at 10 a.m. I got there at 9:30. The Cobb County animal shelter at 1060 AL Bishop Drive in Marietta, Georgia. This would be my second visit. Today, I get my puppy.

The excitement leading up to this day got the best of me. I bought too much from the pet store. I mean, her first meal with me had to be special, right? I picked up lamb chop with sautéed broccolini dog food in a golden encrusted bag accented with lamp shade tassels. Ok, Ok…I was excited.

But, think about it. This was to be an adoption. Adoptions should be glorious occasions. My dog, or the soon to be my dog, was about to have a home. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect. I burned cucumber candles before leaving the house that morning. I was hoping the remnant aroma would linger long enough to welcome us home when her paws crossed the threshold.

At 9:52 a.m., I exited my car and got in line in front of the animal shelter door. On my first visit, I put my name on a list for the terrier. I was interested party #3. There was only one lady in front of me. Being nervous, I asked if I could see her paperwork. She was there to pick up another dog. I was safe.

At 9:55 I heard the echo of a car door from the parking lot behind me. A woman, casually dressed, hair pulled back in that quick run to Target look slowly approached with a smile and got in line.

"Morning," she offered. "Morning to you," I responded. I could feel we were both a bit tight. I looked down at my iPhone screen. 9:57.

I couldn't help myself. She had a piece of paper in her hand, same as the woman in front of me. I was second in line. She was third.

"Here to get a puppy?" Even I could tell, my voice had a touch of insincerity.

"Yes," she responded. As if on cue, she looked down at my paper as I looked down at hers and without asking each other for permission, we closed the gap between us with our hands outstretched, she reading mine, and me reading hers.

I couldn't believe my eyes. We had the same number. Meaning, we were there to pick up the same dog. The only question now was, who signed up first on the wait list?

Ten O'clock. The door opens.

A nice lady emerges and immediately speaks.

"May I see everyone's paperwork?"

She looks at the paperwork from the first lady in line. "Go on in ma'am," she tells her then grabs my paper along with the woman behind me.

"Oh, you're here for the same dog." Neither I nor the woman behind me confirmed this factual statement. It felt like the first person to speak would lose.

"You can go on in," the nice lady said while still looking down at the papers. When neither of us moved.

"You," she pointed to the woman behind me.

"You are #2 on the waitlist. He, meaning me, is #3.

Wow. I had done everything but have a room painted for my new dog and missed out by one spot. I turned around to head back to my truck that was packed to the brim with dog supplies. Still in earshot, the nice lady tossed an encouraging sentence my way.

"At 10:30 we will show more dogs. Maybe you'll see one you like."

"Only thirty more minutes," I thought. "I am already here." I stayed around and waited.

I walked back inside at 10:30. The place sounded bizarre. Dogs weren't barking. They were screaming. It is hard to explain. The dogs sounded like humans in pain.

Leaning in, I asked the young man taking me back to show me a couple of puppies. He took me to a room where all the madness was originating. These dogs were scared. Jumping up and down like a spiritual disturbance. Then I looked in the far corner.

There was a dog sitting there in her own world. Not barking, not moving, not screaming. She looked at me. I slowly walked her way. When I arrived in front of her cage, she stood up. I sat down. We stared at each other for probably a minute.

"Can you take her out?" I asked the young man.

We went to another room and looked at each other even longer. Something special happened. Her temperament was tailor-made for me.

"When can she be adopted?” I asked the young man.

"You can take her today," he responded.

I rushed up front, did the paperwork, paid the fee, and within about 15 minutes, the puppy was mine.

As I was signing the receipt, the worker at the front desk yelled back at the man to get my new puppy. "Please bring up 333!".

"What number did you say?" I asked. "333," she repeated.

It struck me as, well, interesting. I had the honor to work on a book over a decade ago with respected wealth manager, Russell Holcombe, CFP©, MTx The book is entitled, "You Should Only Have to Get Rich Once." One of my favorite chapters is called Provocateur 333. I also have a handmade wooden carving in my home made out of the numbers, 333.

As I left the animal shelter, the young man who showed me around walked me to my truck. In our short walk, I learned my new puppy was on the list to be euthanized. The day I got her was most likely her last day alive.

I couldn’t help but wonder if that is why she was so contemplative when I approached. Maybe she was in reflection and had made peace with her fate. I don't know. But, I do know that she and I have bonded beyond words. I picked her, but in reality, she picked me.

I snapped the picture in this post as I sat behind her recently after a short walk in the park. She provokes peace.

Oh yes, what's her name? Her name is Story.