Column by Linda R. Jones
My canine companion and best friend, Bubbles, died January 5th. She was my companion for almost eleven years. As any animal lover will understand, the loss was unbearable. I read a lot of books on the loss of pets. I was surprised how many books are available, including online. I discovered a book by Jon Katz, “Going Home: Finding Peace When Pets Die,” that I found particularly helpful. He is an advocate for getting another pet sooner rather than later. I did just that on March 11th.
I started searching for another dog a few weeks ago. I wasn’t rushing and I certainly was not replacing Bubbles. I justified finding another dog for my remaining dog, Sammy. He did seem unnerved and unhappy just like me.
I saw a pup on social media that was truly picture perfect. She looked like a cross between a teddy bear and an Ewok. The owner was asking a significant amount of money for a mixed breed puppy, a “Pom-a-poo.” I thought it was a smart idea to ask so much so she could weed out anyone not truly dedicated to taking care of the pup. The owner had an abrupt change in her work schedule that kept her from giving the puppy the time it deserved. Again, I could appreciate and understand that.
I tracked that puppy for a week. No takers. I wondered if she was located out of state. The price dropped slightly. A friend of mine shared the same post with me on a particularly rough night of missing Bubbles. I kept tracking. I ran the information by my daughter. My daughter had also been looking for dogs for me. She also thought the pup was adorable. My daughter suggested I request a meet and greet with Sammy. Surprisingly, she was in our community.
I was convinced I had done my research. No buying or adopting on a whim. I have the time, supplies, and room for a puppy. Small breeds are easier for me in case I need to pick the dog up due to age or illness. I was going with a private owner. I would ask all the right questions. I was going to give references, if it worked out. I already had a name picked out, if it worked out. Artemisia I of Caria, queen of Halicarnassus, naval commander as an ally of King Xerxes at the Battle of Salamis in 480 BCE, yes, Arti for short.
We had our meet and greet. The owner had an immaculate home, older dogs, and this precious, feisty puppy I had been tracking. The owner was clearly more concerned with finding a forever home than making money. I had those good vibes.
Here’s where I got stupid. I asked all the right questions after I picked up Artemisia, got kisses from that wonderful puppy face, and bonded immediately. So, all those right questions were rather a moot point since I already planned on taking her home.
The owner was forthcoming with all my questions. Arti was purchased from a pet store. More accurately, she was a replacement puppy because the first pup died suddenly. She was from the same litter. My heart sank. Arti was from the same place I had purchased Bubbles nearly eleven years ago. Bubbles had health problems and died during routine surgery most likely because of issues associated with overbreeding. I had sworn to myself I would never purchase from a puppy mill or pet store. I lowballed the asking price somehow hoping she wouldn’t agree. The price was never an issue. The owner gave me all of Arti’s paperwork, (including the necropsy for the first puppy) crate, toys, food, and only requested I send her photos occasionally.
It’s been five days since I’ve had Arti. She sleeps through the night. She respects the cats, tries to play with Sammy and she’s smart and eager to learn. Arti sits next to me when I have my coffee in the morning. Arti sits next to me when I write and read. Arti sits next to me in the evening when I have a glass of wine. We just sit together. She wants nothing but to give me her company. She reminds me of Bubbles. She has filled a void in my heart.
My neighbor said she hasn’t seen me smile since Bubbles died, until I got Arti. She’s also convinced Bubbles sent her to me. I thought I wouldn’t have adopted Arti had I known all the information about her before I saw her. Too late or too stupid, it doesn’t matter. I would get her all over again. In fact, now, I would rush to her. I may not have rescued a dog, but a dog rescued me.
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