We have just about spent most the previous week looking for a dog. It was on again, off again kind of thing. We decide not to, then change our minds and decide to go ahead and look for a suitable dog… then, start thinking of all the minuses again and then it was off again. Then, we might see somebody with a cute dog and was is on again.
By now, we should have our PhD’s in Dogantry… we know which ones shed, which ones don’t shed, which is good for having to keep your house free of rats, which ones make good hunters, which ones make good herders… like “get along little doggie”…
Which is completely opposite of our neighbors Bill and Sarah White (where the ghost haunted). A few years ago, on a whim, Bill went out and adopted a dog to give Sarah for her birthday – and it was a surprise. Then, she did the same for him a year or two later. Then, somebody gave them a Schnauzer – so, now they have 3 dogs yapping, and didn’t do any research or anything on either one. On a whim they just hauled off and got them.
I have mentioned before how horny Skip is. Any human leg is fair game.
We studied and studied. We looked at many potential dog-pets, walked different ones from different rescue agencies….. and essentially, drove each other crazy, but I think we take a few members of various agencies down with us. Saturday all our work paid off. We got a very pretty dog. A year-old shiny mostly black medium size Whippet. A Whippet, as in “why don’t you whipit out and show the girls big man?”
We looked the Whippet breed up on the net and they appear to look something like Greyhounds. But, ours is part Walking Hound and seems to have the latter’s traits.
On our second trip to the Atlanta Humane Society we found the one. After we walked the one we were looking at and decided she was the one we were given a card with a number on it. We sat in a waiting room waiting for that number to be called. Isn’t that organized?
When we got in the office of the Atlanta Humane Society bookkeeper or cashier, or whatever and were getting our money ready – we were led to believe the adoption would cost between $85 and $150, the lady looked at my application and asked if I had any other pets. I said no.
She said Purina will pay all my fees except the microchip part. They paid the spade part, shots, and all other adoption fees, which is normally about $150. And, like I said, we had to pay the $15 microchip fee. Not bad, not bad. Why? That is what I asked, why would Purina pay my fees for me? And the lady told me Purina had sort of a foundation or a grant going that paid for adoption fees for those people age 65 or older that did not have any other pets. Well, good.
Then, later in the day, after we rode over to Anna’s mother’s and showed her the dog and then to my sisters to introduce the dog to her first cousin, my sister’s dog Happy. Then we went to Pet Smart to buy some dog supplies. While at Pet Smart, inside the store our dog somehow got loose from my leash and darted away from me. When I saw her headed for the door I said, “Ahah! Now I got her!” The sliding glass doors were shut. When she got closer the electronic door sensed her nearing and opened wide open for her. Out in the parking lot she ran.
Three or four female Pet Smart employees and several men and women in the parking lot formed a posse and chased her all around the parking lot shopping center. She would run one way, then another – when someone was about to grab her she would dodge them and make a turn the other way and the crowd would follow. I think she thought it was a game and she was loving the attention. A Pet Smart employee coming back from Chick Fil-a from her dinner break and saw the posse chasing her and she caught on what was going on and lured the dog over with the smell of chicken nuggets. We nabbed her.
Whew! I thought my $15 was flying out the window.
As you can tell, we haven’t decided on her name yet. Her name, the Atlanta Humane Society said her name is Wiggles. We both feel Wiggles is not a name we want to call her. Right now, we are leaning towards Willow. Wiggles sounds like something the late Mr. Rogers would name a pet.
She spent the night in her crate in the basement. She has me trained to, if she whines, to take her to the back yard to do her business. She loves to be petted by Anna and just sort of politely puts up with my petting.
She is lovable, in her own way.