Loveability

We loaded our groceries from Jungle Jim's, and Mark hardly had to suggest we go to the Petland next door. I was already inside in my mind, with one singular breed in mind. Mark’s sister has a Cavalier King Charles named Bandit. We have all loved Bandit in the same way my kids have adored my two nieces at age five. It is something about their size and loveability (not sure that’s a word, but if Budweiser can use drinkabiltiy, then yes loveablity is a word).

Pet stores usually have what, eight, ten dogs at anyone time. We walked in and past a German Shepherd, a tan and white Huskie, which if I lived back on the Oregon Coast, that’s what I would want. But he would somehow seem out of place in a Cinci burb. I ruled out yappers such as the Pekinese and shitzou, and anything with a terrier in its name or its nose. And there it was, a lone Cavalier King Charles.

AKC lists a hundred plus pure breeds on their website. The chances of walking into a pet store and finding the breed we were hoping for was about 10-1. The chances of finding the breed after not supposed to be in this part of town were 20-1. The odds of locating the breed in a store where we were not supposed to be and were not supposed to be out at all because of a snow day canceling a basketball game were not even ones that the Vegas bookies would touch.

But signs and overcoming odds is a rather large theme in my life. I get excited about them and use signs to move forward on a decision but more often than not as an excuse to not do something.

Imagine my surprise then to find a king charles, in a pet store, in a part of town that we were not supposed to be, on that particular day, but for the snow day preceding it! The sales person recognized suckers when he saw then, or maybe when he figured out they had just stopped in after a wine tasting next door. I am certain we were not the first customers to visit Petland following a Jungle Jim’s tasting event since they host beer or wine events once a week

The salesperson, Carol, immediately brought out the dog without even waiting for me to ask. Though in hindsight, the eyes in the back of my head saw Mark behind me shaking his head yes, when I shook mine no. But I only remembered that later. We were immediately escorted into a large cubicle space, lest we try to escape, and were encouraged to sit down on the bench inside, and held this tiny ball of fluff.

I must admit to a certain mistiness about the whole thing. Mark and I are a blended family. I brought a son and smelly socks and he brought teen age daughters and a a few extra hormonal cycles to the home. By the time we joined together in matrimony, we figured having more kids was not where we wanted to spend our time. We were through with the bounce house birthday parties and waiting for the kids to arrive home after school. Our kids looked after themselves, dogs could not.

Mark is a type A. When he makes up his mind to do something, he would just as rather do it than to agonize. Which is why he asked me to marry him, after dating for a year and half. I on the other hand, while proclaiming to be in touch with my intuition, will drag my feet on something until my toes wear out especially if its a decision that really involves me more than anyone else. I am under no illusion the kids will take the dog for a walk, pick up his poop or in general play with him. I watch them with my niece Sophia. They are all excited when she comes, but, like a puppy keeps coming at you, asking, “Why won’t you play with me?” Soon, the kids lose interest in what becomes a broken record.

Carl continued to push, push down the price that is. We were not even sure if this dog was AKC or CDC or whatever registry it is supposed to be on. I had heard what he said about guarantees, but did not retain the information. I was too busy fending off what is termed a mouthy puppy – yea, like I need that in a household of three teens – a puppy that bits a lot, not out of meanness, but out of playfulness and because he does not have anything else to bite.

I saw the look in Mark eyes. It’s the same as when he asked me to marry him. We had drunk a lot of wine then too. But after a year and half, I was pretty sure anyhow. I looked away and heard the salesperson declare, “This is my last day on the job and I am not going home until I sell a puppy. Well, Carl may still be there because I promptly rose from the bench to announce, “I need 24 hours.”

And with that, we were out the door, still thinking, considering, deliberating, but each foot was drawing closer and closer to the car door, then one foot the other is stepping inside the car, our doors slammed and we were on our way to a home we should have never left.