I grew up with dogs. Ever since I was born until last year when we had to put my last dog down I'd never been without one or two. I really don't know how I lasted a year without one, but that's not my point.
My new boss' husband happens to foster dogs for animal rescue groups and, after hearing that I was interested invited me to her home to see if I liked any of their dogs enough to adopt. I jumped at the chance. I love to give a good home to mutts who've had a rough life. In fact, all of my dogs were abandoned/rescued dogs.
So I go over and meet their dogs. They had two ready for adoption. Both wonderful. I could only afford to get one of them and, after a long hard decision I chose. I loved that dog the moment I met him. A little older but playful, cuddly, and a bit rambunctious. The dog liked me too; he would even cry after me when I left their house. I filled out the adoption papers, bought everything he needed and eagerly awaited the end of the week when I could pick him up after work.
Towards the end of the week the rescue operation never got back to me about him. I sent them an email asking what was going on since I was expecting to get him within a few days. They answered back that the only vet records they had for my last dog was from when we put him down last year. Fair enough; the form I filled out only asked for the vet I planned on taking him to, not where our last dogs went. My family had our last dog put down at a different place than our usual vet since they could see us on short notice, and we were impressed enough with their service to take this new dog there.
So I mailed them back with the details of the vet we used in the past. More days of silence on their part. I ask again what's holding this up. They respond that there was no record of my last dog going there since 2005, and no record of him having heartworm medication since 2004, which is an instant deal breaker. At this point I'm mad and worried because that's not right at all.
At this point I grab my mother who took care of the vet dealings. I was a moneyless teenager up until recently and had no way to care for a dog, so she gladly helped out. She was confused too, since she had taken him for both reasons frequently. In his last years he came down with cancer and was in pain, with a few surgeries and vet checkups before we had to put him down.
At this point I'm getting more and more pissed off. What's wrong here? The vet no longer has our records? After arguing with the rescue that the vet was wrong, we did that, and almost driving down to the vet myself to tear the place apart to find them, my mother comes up to me in tears. She confessed to me that she lied to me; she never took my dog to the vet since 2005, nor had she bought him heartworm meds. He apparently never had his surgery and she waited years to do anything about it, all the time telling me she was taking care of him. And now I looked like a dumbass trying to argue with a rescue agency and a vet.
Obviously, they immediately denied my request for adoption, even with my boss and her husband vouching for my integrity and pressing the point that this was going to be MY dog now and not hers to be responsible for. I am beyond devastated right now. I'm heartbroken, crying, and I can't even trust or talk to my mother anymore. The only thing keeping me going through this horrible month I've been having was the knowledge that I'd be coming home to a new best friend, and now I don't even have that.
For some reason I looked at the rescue's site tonight and sure enough, he is listed as available for adoption again. I guess that got me depressed to the point of venting with this needlessly long and rambling post, sorry for the length. Just very angst about this whole situation and that the theme of my life seems to be that I always get screwed over because of what other people do/don't do.
Well, I almost got a new dog... (warning: long, angst-filled) 
