A Dog Journal:
|
My daughter excitedly phoned and told me that she had found a female, white miniature poodle in a pet store in the next town.
"No," I told her. "You know what they say about pet store puppies. They say you should go to a breeder." She refused to be silenced.
"Just come and see her," she urged. "The girl who works with the animals says she's lovely." I told my husband that I had agreed to view the puppy and he shook his head. He told me not to make any fast decisions and reminded me that pet ownership was a 10-15 year contract. With a warm hug he sent me on my way.
We drove to the pet store on an icy cold winter's day with a snowstorm in progress and saw all the animals seeking homes in their pens. People stood, faces pressed against the glass, discussing each pet's attributes. The young lady asked if she could help us and we explained that we were here to see the miniature poodles. There they were--black-coated brother and white-coated sister jumping excitedly at the glass before them. Tiny balls of fluff romping among the absorbent newspaper shreds that lined their enclosures. The girl put the puppy in my arms and I began to cry. Her tiny brown nose nuzzled my face and neck as the tears coursed down my face. She lapped them up and nuzzled deeper into my neck. In retrospect, I would say it was love at first sight.
My grief-stricken heart reached out to the two-pound bundle of life in my arms. Her miniscule face was reminiscent of the first pet we had had as a family, our beloved Pixie. Heart and head were in conflict. Should I buy the puppy immediately or should I wait? The grief of losing Heidi gnawed at me. I was, by my very nature, an impulsive person. This time I needed Gilles' blessing before bring this puppy into our home. How could I leave her in the store?
I slept very little that night, thinking about the puppy. I felt as though I had abandoned her--she had stolen my heart. By the next morning I knew what had to be done. I telephoned the pet store and asked the department manager if the puppy was still available. Her reply was affirmative. She explained that she would have the puppy bathed and trimmed and ready for pick-up by about 3:15 pm.
My daughter, husband and I drove to the mall in silence with the blanket I had brought to protect the puppy from the severe cold. I told the salesclerk that we were there to see the white female poodle puppy. She replied, "Sorry ma'am, she's already sold."
Speechless, my heart dropped. I stammered as I replied, "We were here to pick-her up at 3:15."
"Oh," she laughingly replied, "you're the people my manager was telling me about."
I cried as the puppy was placed in my waiting arms. We were shown to a small room to get acquainted with the adorable puff ball. She resembled a giant make-up puff. "Pixie," I called and she clumsily ran to my arms. Gilles was amazed at her likeness to our beloved Pixie of long ago.
We took care of the formalities such as payment and choice of a toy. The young lady said we were fortunate to choose such a delightful pet. In the four days that Pixie had been in the pet store she had captured the hearts of the staff. As we turned to leave the store, we took one final glance at her brother; it seemed unfair to separate them.
Pixie came into our home and hearts on December 30th, 2003. When nighttime came, we put her into our grandchildren's playpen that we had lined with newspaper and made a cozy bed out of a blanket-lined cardboard box. Beside her was the fluffy toy the salesclerk had tucked into her blanket. We anticipated cries of loneliness, but she was silent. Pixie sensed she was in a loving home.
The End
Read Part 1 of Pixie's Ponderings: Why Does Love have to Hurt?
For more fun stories for dog lovers, subscribe to Dog Lover's Digest, our FREE E-zine.
