Our efforts scouting for a dog finally paid off. We have a home visit scheduled for Friday!

For those not in the know, this is the magical step before an actual pet adoption can take place with most private rescue organizations. The pup, named Scout, is being hosted by a rescue out of Belleville, Mich., and will be driven to Michigan from Kentucky, where it currently is being fostered. Sound complicated?

Let me back up. I’ll show you complicated.

Matt and I will meet Scout on Friday. He’s supposed to be partly border collie, but looks mostly Brittany spaniel to us.

When Matt first showed me a picture of Scout, I didn’t even pause before barking out my order.

“Fill out an application!”

“Really?” Matt asked, then paused to look at the profile: a stout pup that mostly looked like a brittany spaniel. It was clear Matt was still burned by the collective Ranger/Daisy experiences.

“Do it,” I said.

But doing it was not an easy task. The application was mammoth, asking everything from our understanding of the dog’s breed (with examples of how we researched this information) to what we would do if we could no longer keep the dog. It also asked for two personal references (including their phone numbers AND emails!) and contact information for our current vet.

Matt was daunted.

“I don’t want to do this,” he complained, about 10 minutes into the process.

“Babe, it’s worth it. Push through,” I reassured him.

Another 10 minutes later, and Matt was stumped.

I reached out, asking for his computer. “C’mon, let me finish it up.”

“It’s just so invasive,” he said. “They’ll know where we live and we haven’t even seen the dog yet. They’ll even know we have a dog door!”

We sent out the app, and I got busy sending thank-you emails to my friends for putting in a good word. I later found out they each had to fill out a lengthy questionnaire asking everything from where my existing pets sleep to my disciplinary approach.

That night I received an email saying the application was received, and that it could be expedited by faxing vaccination records for my current pets. Amazingly, I has those papers handy, and sent them off. I soon received a second email thanking me, and letting me know the adoption process could take up to three weeks since the organization is run completely by volunteers. The woman also explained in detail how the adoption process worked.

Matt and I were pleased with this news since, well, it was news. After our last experience, this little crumb of communication felt like a steak dinner.

Next we received an email saying the reference portion of our interview was complete, and that Scout’s foster parents or a rescue representative would be in touch to interview us.

That Thursday I received a phone call during my lunch break. Seeing the number was from Kentucky, I eagerly picked it up. A woman with the rescue’s main office had a few questions for me, then she said all my paperwork was in order, and she hoped to conduct a home visit within two weeks. My heart just about jumped out of my chest. We were making progress. Finally.

After a long four-day weekend of no communication, we felt less hopeful. So I jumped in the driver’s seat and called the woman in Kentucky. It ends up she was about to call me to ask about availability for a home visit. She offered Friday, and I said Matt would definitely be there, and I would be able to meet after work.

It’s finally feeling possible. Possible that Matt and I could soon be parents to a new pup. It’s hard to keep our emotions in check, while giving ourselves permission to whoop it up a bit. I called my mom to share my excitement. I imagined Scout, with his soft brown ears, in my house and meeting Lexie.

Matt and I considered buying another dog bed for the front room. But we decided to hold off. We know better.

One thing at a time.