On Friday, December 22, 2006, I drove across the city of Tucson to Pima Animal Care Center to pick up MY puppy. I had waited anxious days to get him, and the time had finally come.
Scott and I had gone to PACC, earlier in the week, “just to look”. I had no intention of getting a puppy…a dog, maybe…but definitely NOT at Christmas time.
We were missing Ace. He had died that October, a few months earlier. We had gotten Ace at PACC some 13 years prior, and had really loved that dog.
We spotted this black and white pup that could have been Ace’s little brother. He had been brought in just at closing time the day before. Animal control keeps new arrivals for three working days to give time for the original owners to claim them, if they are going to.
This little pup could be adopted at 5:44 PM on Thursday.
I don’t want to sound like an anxious Mommy, but I was. His owners could have claimed him, which would have been good, I guess. Or anyone else wanting him could ‘bid’ for him, and vie with me for his ownership come Thursday. I had my fingers crossed.
I drove to PACC each day, and played with the puppy in the outdoor pen while I waited for the holding period to pass. I felt like I was guarding my child. Silly me. When it was feeding time, the other little black pup in the kennel successfully kept the little black and white pup from any dinner at all. The weather had gone to freezing the night before, and PACC kept the kennels washed, but they stayed wet. It was cold and miserable. Through all that, this little black and white dog wagged his tail in a circle and was sweet any time I would get near it.
5:44 PM Thursday finally arrived, and no one else had come for or bid on MY puppy. I paid the adoption fees, totalling $100. He was mine!
I ripped open the sample packet of dog food given in the “Your New Puppy” bag, and fed him through the cage wire.
I had to leave him there for the neuter surgery the next day, but I could get him afterwards, on Friday, at 4 PM. If I failed to make the time slot to pick him up, I wouldn’t see his little black and white face until after Christmas the following week. I wouldn’t miss the time slot. Time to take him home couldn’t come fast enough.
It was drizzling rain on Friday afternoon. I arrived early, and I sat in my car in the parking lot behind the PACC. That is not a pleasant place, without rain and cold. If you ever need to be convinced to have your pets spayed or neutered, go sit in the parking lot of your animal control facility, and watch the truckloads of scared dogs and cats being trundled into the building with little chance of ever getting out again. It is heartbreaking.
I finally got the little hand wave signal from the assistant, through the front door of the veterinary trailer, for me to come inside. I dashed in, and filled out some papers, and waited what seemed like an endless ten minutes. The young assistant brought out a very limp black and white lump of a puppy. “He’s still a little groggy,” the assistant said. I had seen my share of groggy animals before, so it didn’t bother me at all to see him all loose and rubbery. I was hoping to get him home and in a safe place before he woke up fully. I loaded my ‘out of it’ puppy onto the front seat of the car, and headed for home.
For one brief moment, he lifted his head over backwards, and gave me a very long look. The heater was on in the car, and it was toasty. I had the radio on softly to mask the street sounds. His head was bent all the way over backwards. He looked pretty silly. And real darned cute. “Welcome home, new friend”, I said. He plopped his head down, and slept the entire ride home.
pause,
Leslie
Deuce the Christmas Puppy
