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So Cappy wasn't The One.  We drove out into lovely horse country to visit him on the rescue farm.  He was cute, and seemed nice enough, but there was no sizzle, no "OH!" factor.  Ben and Lily were, of course, chirping "Can we take him home?!" but I could see that Julianna wasn't totally bowled over, either.  She told him he was cute, but she didn't beg me.  I could tell the volunteer was a bit annoyed with me: "It's hard for there to be 'a spark' when they've been living in a kennel."  Being outed as a Shallow Person was painful.  You KNOW I need them to think I'm a well-educated, rescue-dog hero.  But that wasn't enough to take Cappy home.  And, by the way, he was about as much Clumber Spaniel as he was Yorkie.  Looked like 1/2 Corgi and 1/2 mutt.  Kind of Corgi/Peke looking, frankly.  No spaniel at all, that I could discern.  I think that must be the most fun job at the shelter--picking what breed to slap on the dog.  Is it black?  It's a lab mix.  Is it medium sized?  It's a spaniel.  Is it very clearly a Pit Bull?  It's a "terrier mix."  I swear, they'd get a guinea hen and dub it a Dalamatian. 

Ben was heartbroken.  "I'm not going to like any other dogs!  Cappy was the only one I'll ever love!!"  He touched the dog's head--tentatively--once.  *sigh*

But having walked away from a dog, I feel a bit less flustered about it all. I just sent a few more apps out, but I'm going to try to walk away now.  let it go for a bit.  Yeah, right.