Ever since I left home at age eighteen, I dreamed of two things: a
man and a dog. I wanted to find a man like my dad who was
intelligent, had a great sense of humor, athletic, fun, good
looking, and family oriented. I had grown up with two of the best
dogs in the world, which we had rescued from terrible fates. Sophie,
a black poodle, had been confined in a cage, starved, and beaten by
her owner, while Nikki, a mix of terrier and dachshund, was three
days away from being dissected by med students. Cuddly and smart,
both puppies exuded magnetic personalities and attracted anyone who
crossed their paths.
After college graduation, I traveled and played the dating game.
Sophie had died several years before, and my mother refused to part
with Nikki, so I was dogless. A typical single, I never stayed home
long, so as much as I wanted a puppy, I knew it wouldn’t be fair
to own a dog at that time. However, I must admit that any time I saw
a little dog, I cuddled the animal on my lap, and blocked out
everything else—even a party full of bachelors. After the party
ended, I left with a hole in my heart.
One day when I stopped shopping for men, I met my future husband,
Seth. He lived in a rental home that didn’t allow pets, so he was
dogless, too. Soon after he proposed, we decided to look for a house
of our own. One of my criteria was a nice, large yard so we could
have a dog. I told everyone we knew that we were puppy hunting.
Seth never had a dog, but when I took him home to meet my mother,
he fell in love with Nikki. Seth and I wanted a clone of Nikki
because she had it all: personality, temperament, affection,
intelligence and beauty. Okay, we were biased! Seth’s only
complaint was that Nikki slept on his stomach that night.
When we returned to Houston, the first place we visited was a pet
store. I wanted every puppy in the shop! Seth found a Nikki
look-alike and I agreed we had found our dog. One major problem: a
price tag of more than $1,500! We couldn’t afford that puppy and
buy a house and plan a wedding, too. Crushed and heartbroken, I
cried about that dog for weeks, unable to step into a pet store
again.
 Next we stopped at the Houston
SPCA. We learned that the small
dogs got adopted first and fast. I noticed an adorable cocker
spaniel, whose weakness was chasing cars. This trait would give me a
heart attack! Also, we were introduced to a sweet schnauzer that was
age nine. I took him for a walk and brushed his gray fur. Even
though he had a wonderful disposition, I was worried about adopting
a senior dog because he wouldn’t live as long as a puppy. It had
been traumatic when I lost Sophie years ago, and I knew I couldn’t
handle getting attached to a dog only to watch him die five years
later.
We made several trips to the SPCA and signed up for their breed
match program, choosing terriers. Each time we arrived, all of the
puppies and young dogs were already adopted. We checked out the
Humane Society and other animal rescue groups as well.
 At the Humane Society, we found a frisky terrier puppy that we
wanted to adopt—another Nikki double. But Seth’s landlord
wouldn’t allow him to have a pet for even a couple of months until
he moved into our new house. I couldn’t believe it. Dejected, we
reluctantly turned down the adoption.
A friend introduced us to a client who was searching for a home
for his two beloved pets: a poodle and a bichon frise. I tossed a
ball and a pink Frisbee as the dogs scampered across the client’s
back yard. Elegant and athletic, both puppies nuzzled their noses in
my lap before racing for another catch. Forfeiting his dream of a
dog like Nikki, Seth conceded to take the two cutie-pies. But a
problem arose: at the last minute the owner changed his mind,
realizing he couldn’t part with his family members.
We were back to square one. A friend who fostered dogs brought
over a lhasa apso, Charlie, who had heartworms and missing teeth.
The honey-colored dog had been found wandering the freeway, covered
with mange. Charlie craved affection and licked me all over. Despite
his illnesses, we were a good match. With the right treatment, I
felt the dog would be fine and I gave Seth the go-ahead sign.
Unfortunately, Seth envisioned huge vet bills and he refused to
adopt a sickly animal. No amount of persuading on my part changed
his mind. I had never seen a lhasa apso before, but I thought
Charlie was precious, so I added lhasa apso to our breed match list
at the SPCA.
Meanwhile, we got married, moved into our new house, and
remodeled our kitchen. One late afternoon, I received a phone call
from the SPCA. They had just checked in a darling apricot lhasa apso,
Motsie, who resembled dogs in several Hollywood movies.
"That’s great!" I enthused. "But I won’t have
transportation until tomorrow morning. Can you hold her for
me?"
"She will be adopted within an hour," said the
volunteer. "I suggest you come over now."
I felt the tension gathering in my neck and shoulders. "Let
me see if I can find a ride. I’ll call you right back."
I phoned a friend. It was 3:30 p.m. and she wasn’t willing to
tackle Houston traffic. Next I called Seth at work, but he was in a
meeting. Our house was far from the animal shelter and I didn’t
have enough cash for a cab. I felt powerless, sad, and defeated. I
would lose a dog again. I never thought it would be this hard.
A few minutes later, I got the call that Motzie had been adopted.
The volunteer reassured me that they would find a dog for us
eventually. Eventually came a lot sooner than I expected; at 5:00
p.m. I received a second call from the same volunteer.
 "We just got another lhasa apso. Since it’s closing time,
I can place a hold on him if you can be here when we open tomorrow
morning."
"I’ll be there," I exclaimed. Excited, I asked,
"What can you tell me about the dog?"
"I don’t know anything. He’s sleeping right now in a
cage on the top shelf. I can barely see him."
"We’re going to take him home, " I declared, sight
unseen.
That night we ate dinner with friends. I told them Seth and I
were finally going to get a dog when the shelter opened tomorrow.
 Suddenly Seth did a 180-degree turn. He crossed his arms and
frowned. "I changed my mind. I don’t want a dog. I just spent
a lot of money for a new kitchen. I’m not going to let a dog ruin
it."
"Are you crazy?" I retorted. "We’ve been looking
for a dog for months! And I told you before we got married that
I’m a package deal. You get me and a dog or you get nothing."
"That was before the house renovation," said Seth.
"You are taking me tomorrow morning to see the dog."
"Over my dead body," Seth grumbled.
The next day I dragged Seth stomping and growling out the door.
"There’s no way I’m going to agree to this dog," he
bellowed.
When we arrived, a volunteer escorted us to a large pen where we
could play and get acquainted with the puppy. He handed me the
information sheet, which said that Oreo was one or two years old,
good with children, not housebroken, and the family only had him for
three weeks. They brought him back because their other dog didn’t
get along with this new one.
The whole time I was reading this, Seth mumbled, "We’re
not taking him. Get that straight."
Then the volunteer brought Oreo, a gorgeous fifteen-pound dog,
with large black and white spots. Oreo stood on his hind legs in
front of Seth and begged, wagging his fluffy white tail. Mesmerized,
with his eyes glowing, Seth reached down to pet the puppy, smiling
as Oreo continued to wag his tail.
 "I want this dog!" declared Seth within fifteen seconds
after meeting Oreo. "Who could turn down that face? We’re
taking him home!"
I was elated. We played in the pen a little while longer, and I
allowed other people there to pet Oreo, but I quickly told them,
"He’s our dog now."
We purchased a doggie bed and supplies on the way home. Since he
already had a first name, I gave him middle and last names--Oreo T.
Cookie. (The "T" stands for "terrific!") We had finally
found our dog!
 We don’t know Oreo T. Cookie’s history, but we do know he
thinks he’s king of the castle. And who do you think is his
favorite? Daddy Seth. And the admiration is mutual. Next in line
comes my daughter, Hayley, who is almost seven, and I am last.
Everyone in the neighborhood knows Oreo T. Cookie. He even stops
traffic!
Seth claims Oreo tricked us. "He knew what he was doing that
day nine years ago."
I’d agree. Last night Oreo T. Cookie dined on steak.
§§§
Headlines
Prev  Next
|
