OR: The only true love money can buy...
No, not THAT kind!
In June, 2003 I lost my beloved 16 year old Schipperke to cancer. After about a month of rattling around a too empty house, thinking I saw the dog at every turn and bursting into tears, I decided to volunteer with an animal rescue group.
So one hot July Saturday morning four years ago, I found myself at an "adoption event". There were about a dozen dogs of various sizes and ages, most in pet crates, and people milling about asking about and petting and adopting them. My plan was to be a "foster parent" to one of the dogs that was not adopted. I was all set to take home this cute little Lhasa Apso named Sammy when a woman rushed up and said, "I MUST have this dog for my 75 year old mother who just lost her Lhasa."
What could I do? Nothing but hand him over. The woman who ran the event was thrilled by how successful the day had been. There were only a couple of dogs left, including a scraggly little mutt that had cowered in the back of her crate and squalled pathetically the entire two hours. Part Yorkie and part who-knows-what, NOBODY had expressed any interest in her. "Could you take HER home?" the woman in charge asked. What could I say? I put the ugly, scared, whiny little mutt in my car and drove home.
Then a funny thing happened. I got home, and the puppy (she was only 10 months old) stopped crying. She walked out of the crate, took one look at my DH and he of her and LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT! Two hours later, with mutt in his lap, DH asked plaintively, "You aren't taking this dog back are you?" When I told him that yes, that was the plan, he looked ready to cry. This was on Saturday afternoon. It took me a couple more days to come around. By Thursday afternoon, the rescue group called to tell me they had a possible adoptive family for the dog. I told them, "Sorry, I'm keeping her!"
And that is how The Belle came into my life. :-)