A guy I worked with showed me pictures of his new puppy named Teddy.
“Is he a rescue?” Always my first question.
“No, got him from a breeder.” To my credit I didn’t pull his larynx out with the tweezers I keep in my make-up bag, but I wanted to.
Now he’s not the sharpest tool in the box but he did see me stiffen. Ray Charles would have caught my not so pleased reaction since my whole being bristled forced to digest what it just heard.
“I’d never go to a pet shop you know…I draw the line there,” this lamebrain said, trying hard to backpedal.
“Where do you think pet shop animals come from (we’ll call him Sid), the stork?”
I didn’t verbally attack him because if I had it would have been regretful for both of us, but the truth is, if more people adopted there would be fewer breeders out there. Teddy, a husky, who cost a minimum five grand is cute, no question, but if Sid had gone online I’d bet a kidney he would have found cute in no time.
Teri adopted Bengi, her beloved Yorkie, from a no kill shelter in Virginia. He was put on a plane in his little crate and before she could say, He’s mine,” he was. All she had to do was pay his airfare and the shelter split the cost.
Alva, who comes across as anything but tough, acquired Cookie, her beloved puppy, after watching her previous owner abuse her. All I can say is, that man’s lucky he still has balls in their rightful place since they could be on Alva’s mantle.
Sam, the French bulldog, hails from Colorado. His owner died of AIDS so John, who just lost his long time lover to the disease, in his memory adopted Sam.
Mary, an actress, went to New Orleans to help after Katrina and came home with Cricket who for the first year only sat on the highest cabinet for fear a wave was coming. Breaks your heart, doesn’t it?
My dear pal J.W. along with a slew of adopted dogs, took in Smudge and Smokey, two full-grown cats someone left in front of his vets after Hurricane Sandy. My theory is they lost their home since this took place in Jersey where so many were hit and had no choice but to leave them there. Very romantic conjecture on my part, but they were so taken care of it might not be too far from the truth.
J.W. took them home, fed them turkey from his hand to win their trust and let them live in the bathroom till they decided to meet their brethren. J.W. came home one day to find them all snuggled on the couch like old friends. Nature, if you give her time, always works it out. A lesson in patience and faith to the rest of us.
There’s a thuggy Irish guy who owns a pack of rescues I see in the Park….a character right out of the film Gangs of New York. He often wears a T-shirt that says…
EUTHANIZE BREEDERS NOT DOGS.