Jacqueline's Story

Well, I didn't get it done in time, but here's the entry I wanted to post for Jackie's birthday. Happy birthday, baby...

My baby on her pillow taking a nap on her birthday.

You know, I am ashamed to say that Jackie and Angel both came from pet stores. I really don't have a good excuse for doing that, especially because I knew at the time what I was doing was wrong, but if you read Angel's story, you might understand how I convinced myself it was alright to buy him from a pet store even though I understood the moral and ethical reasons against doing so. The reasons behind why I bought Angel doesn't make it right, but it does give you an opportunity to be in my shoes, and see what I was dealing with when I decided to take him.

I had far less reasons to support my decision for buying another pet store puppy when we got Jacqueline, but I will tell you her story anyway.

Angel had been with us for about two and a half years when my wife started thinking about finding another dog. She thought Angel could do with a playmate, and she was a little more than disappointed that Angel had taken more of a shine to me rather than her. (I told her she needed to walk and feed him more!) I guess she thought she could rectify both problems at once by buying another dog.

She originally expressed a lot of interest in finding a Boston Terrier. My wife researches the breeds well when it comes to choosing a dog, and after weeks of such research she finally decided a Boston Terrier would be a good fit as a companion for her, and as a member of our growing menagerie.

After a little more detailed research on the Boston Terrier breed, my wife decided one afternoon to go looking for one. She hadn't reached the point where she actually wanted to purchase a dog yet, she was more on a reconnaissance mission. She wanted to find an actual Boston Terrier and see if it was the kind of dog it appeared to be on paper. From there it was her intention to find a reputable breeder from which we could purchase a dog, or maybe even get lucky enough to find one at the local animal shelter.

Even though I understood how methodical my wife was in the way she went about deciding on what sort of dog we should get, I was starting to worry a little. I was worried because when we bought Angel, even though my wife did her homework before she finally settling on a Maltese as the "perfect dog", when it came right down to it there was a significant amount of impulse buying involved in Angel's selection. I don't blame my wife for this because after all, it's really, really hard to turn away a beautiful little puppy. And Angel was a beautiful little puppy. However, the bottom line was I was afraid if my wife happened upon a cute Boston Terrier puppy, there was a better than good chance I would have a new dog by nightfall.

But, my wife is responsible, and when she did find a Boston Terrier she exercised great self control and called me before she actually plunked down any cash. In fact, I was surprised because she said she
didn't actually want to buy this darling little Boston Terrier she had found at a local pet store. She said that she didn't feel a connection with the puppy, she just wanted me to come down and see how pretty she was.

I was at work when she called, and told her I was too busy to get away from the office. The pet store was just a few blocks from where I work, but I figured if I didn't go, she wouldn't have to wait for me to get there, and thereby spend more time with the puppy. Time during which she would have an opportunity to bond with the dog, and time enough for the dog to project that connection that heretofore had been lacking.

I went with her later that evening, but by then someone else had bought the dog. My wife was a little disappointed, but she wasn't heartbroken by any means.

Hoping to get out of there before the curse of cute puppy dog eyes locked in on us, I started herding my wife towards the exit. But, she took me by the arm and started walking me back towards the puppies anyway. I asked the obvious; if the dog she wanted was gone, why were we heading back to the puppy area of the store? She said there was a Long Hair Chihuahua she wanted me to see. She said that this Chihuahua was really cute.

I have never liked Chihuahuas. I think the reason why is because I don't think such a little dog is very attractive when it has such short hair. I would never call a Chihuahua a rat, but I do see the resemblance. In any case, when my wife said she wanted me to see this dog I have to say I was less than enthused. I even told her as we walked back to the puppy pen that I had no intention of buying a Chihuahua. I explained that they are too little, and they bark too much, and that they tend to gravitate towards only one person, and snap at all the rest. She assured me she wasn't trying to convince me to buy her the dog, and that in fact she had less of a connection with this Chihuahua than she had with the Boston Terrier. By the time this conversation ran it's course, I found myself in the puppy pen.

I can still see her now, literally the tiniest puppy in the pen at less than two pounds, and yet she was wrestling with every puppy she could get near. And she was quick. No sooner had she recovered from being forced onto her back, she would snap back to her feet and race along the inside perimeter of the pen. She was the cutest puppy I had ever seen. (Angel notwithstanding.) My wife asked the attendant if we could spend some time with her, and the next thing I know I was in a separate pen holding baby Jackie. I sat in the only chair in the pen and put this little creature down in the shredded newspaper. She immediately grabbed the nearest toy and tried to shake it. Then, she brought it to me. I took it, and tossed it to the other end of the pen, and she took off after it in a flash. But, she couldn't find it because she was so small she couldn't see over the shredded paper. It was the cutest thing I have ever seen.

I got up and walked around the pen, and the tiny dog followed me wherever I went. By now it started to sink in that I had a new dog, because as we all know, you don't choose a dog, the dog chooses you. As I sat there holding this incredibly tiny dog, I could feel my heart melting, and I knew there was no way I could leave without her. I looked at my wife, who by now was completely hip to what was going on, and said, "Do we keep her?" My wife said she didn't know, and that maybe Angel wouldn't like her, and what about the cats? Would they try to kill her because she was so small? And by the way, weren't we shopping for a Boston Terrier for my wife, and not a Chihuahua for me? We mulled it over for an hour as we sat playing with Jackie in the pen. We decided to talk to the owner of the store, and asked her if we could bring Angel to meet her. We have dealt with the owner before, but that is a different story, and shall be told at another time. The owner said it would be fine with her if we wanted to bring Angel over, and so we drove home, and picked the boy up.

Angel was a little intimidated by the pet store, and all the dogs it held, but he calmed down when we entered the private pen. We let him sniff around for a while before we brought in Jackie so that he could get accustomed to the place. When we finally did introduce him to Jackie it was if they were long lost friends. They played and chased each other as the got to know one another, and before you know it we were paying for our brand new little Long Hair Chihuahua puppy.

Although I love Jackie more than anything, I always feel more than a little guilty for not rescuing a dog in need from the shelter, and even worse for supporting the puppy mill industry. The owner of the pet store, which is a local operation, swears she only buys her dogs from reputable breeders, but I can't expect her to tell me the truth if she is getting her dogs from puppy mills. After all, it is through strict secrecy that those places are able to stay in business.

I have been to the shelter here where I live, and it is heartbreaking to see all the dogs there in their kennels waiting for a new owner. When I went, I walked down the rows of the kennel and looked at each of the dogs. Most every one came running up to the back of the run to see me. Each looked like it had a smile on it's face as if to say hello.

I remember one little dog in particular that just completely broke my heart. It was a little Maltese like Angel, but only smaller like a real Maltese should be. The little guy was lying on the cement of his run trying to get warm in what little sunlight there was that day. He had his butt towards the walkway where I was, and he didn't move at all. He looked so depressed. He had a tag on his run that said he had been adopted, so it was just a matter of time before his new owners would come to take him home, but he didn't know that. All he knew was he was in a cage surrounded by other dogs in the same predicament. Who knows what had happened in his life that had led up to him being held at the animal shelter. I really felt sad for the poor little guy, but he was one of the lucky ones who would get to go on to a new home. As I walked through the rest of the kennel I couldn't help but wonder what would become of the rest of the dogs, and there were so many of them.

Angel and Jackie have a lot of years left on them, and I don't expect we will be getting any new dogs soon, but next time we will go to the shelter and rescue a dog.

Please come by next week for more in the continuing adventures of Jacqueline and Angel. Until then, check out the Carnival of the Dogs at Mickey's Musings, and the Friday Ark at The Modulator for more interesting animals.

Posted by Jeff at March 1, 2007 3:11 PM