So I always loved animals, since day one. Sir David Attenborough was always my hero and the animal programs were more frequent than the kids shows growing up...
I had several pets growing up, most of them "unwanted pets" that I got from various places. A parakeet named Frida that I got from my cousins where she used to sit in her cage on top of a bookcase day in and day out until she came to our house. A gerbil named Zorro that a girl from school had shoplifted to seem cool and burnt it's whiskers off with a cigarette. A rat named Cobra Rax that my grown brother had gotten for Christmas from friends and would just feed it french fries and was gonna give it to a friend with snakes. A guinea pig. A small lizard. More rats. Many, many fish...
But never a dog. I always knew we were never gonna have a dog when I was a kid. It was somehow understood. My mother loves dogs, but I knew it was just not gonna happen. My grandparents used to have a Daschhund when my mom was little and my grandmother would always say that when she retired she would get a another dog. So I simply assumed that you had to be retired to own a dog, calmly accepted the fact and looked forward to retirement and my very own dog.
The years went by. I grew up, moved out, got married and ended up in America. And I now knew that I didn't actually have to be retired to own a dog, but could get a dog whenever I pleased! I talked it over with my husband for several years, we wanted to make sure that it was the right time. I started working as a freelance illustrator from home and had all the time in the world so we started looking.
Rescue vs. breeder, that was the question. After a negative experience with a very rude and uncooperative Miniature Bull Terrier breeder in New Hampshire I decided I would rather go the rescue route that give my hard earned money to a grumpy breeder. But getting a rescue puppy was harder that we had expected, especially when you don't know where to start. I really wanted a puppy since it was my first dog. But there are few puppies for adoption and they go very fast! We did find a nice shelter in Salem that rescued dogs and puppies from Puerto Rico so we started frequenting them.
But it was never a match. My husband was getting impatient saying "Let's just get one, they're all so cute!", but I wanted to do it right. I wanted that cute puppy to be a good fit even when it was grown up. We had both agreed that a small breed was for us. I always loved Bull terriers and French Bulldogs, and my husband was partial to Jack Russells or Beagles. Well, we never found either.
Several months go by. My husband calls me one afternoon saying he's downstairs and he needs help. And "bring a towel, someone got sick in the car". Well, he's a painting contractor and for a split second I'm thinking one of his guys is sick. hen I get the hunch. That feeling in my gut that he's done something sporadic. I grab a towel and run down to the street, and sure enough: There's my husband in the car with the biggest grin and the tiniest little brown puppy! He tells me a guy on the job had a Jack Russell, he asked where he got it, and went to the store that was just down the street. He was given a Jack Russell puppy, but it kept frantically circling him and biting his fingers so he was a bit put off. Then this tiny little puppy crawls over and lays down on his lap. he asks what kind of dog it is and they tell him "it's a Jug, a Pug/Jack Russell mix".
At this point I am so conflicted with emotions I don't know what to do whith myself. A part of me is so unbelievably excited, I have a dog! But another part of me is furious! How could he buy a dog from a petstore! Of all horrible places! I try not to hurt his so obviously extremely proud feelings but quietly ask why he had to get a puppymill puppy. He looks heartbroken and says maybe she's not from a puppymill. I leave it alone not to ruin the moment, but we decide to visit the store the next day.
"Missy's Puppy Land" was the sadest place I've ever visited. Cage after cage of poor emaciated puppies, most way too young to be taken from their mothers. The salesgirl asks what dog we might be interested in and keeps trying to pry this one or that one on us, like we were buying shoes. I felt sick and we left. My husband was crushed. He didn't realize where the puppies came from, he just wanted to surprise me. I told him there was no way I was bringing the puppy back to that place. She was staying. And so Bela was a part of the family.
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