He arrived by car on a crisp October day, 2009. He was seven weeks old, weighed 18lbs/8kg, and he was mostly fur. He did not look real. He looked like a stuffed toy, too perfect and fuzzy and happy to possibly be an authentic, live, pulsating puppy. I was in awe.
And then he began to shit. The shitting continued for two weeks. I did not sleep. Amazingly, he would be a potty prince during the day, dutifully doing his duty in the backyard every time I let him out - no problems, no apocalyptic poo. Only at night, when I put him in his crate at the foot of my bed, and laid my head down to rest, did the shitstorm begin. It continued on the hour, every hour, until 7am, when he would bounce awake, seemingly unaware that he had not slept either – that he, too, had been kept awake all night by his liquid bowels. He was hungry, you see. He wanted to feed the vicious shit cycle. And so I got up and fed him, like every loving mother has done in the history of the world. And he grew strong and fast and well. The diarrhea turned solid, eventually. And today, I have as my prize a beautiful, sweet, doting son-dog. I also have a massive amount of guilt.
You see, for three years, I spent my every spare moment rescuing homeless shelter dogs in Los Angeles, saving them from certain death and adopting them out to loving families. I preached to countless people the logic and benefits of adopting a homeless dog. I was bitten, peed on, had my apartment and even my car shat upon; I surrendered my money, time, and emotions to these helpless creatures who only wanted to live and love. I adored these dogs, and I would have kept many of them if I could have. And then, when I finally had the opportunity to get my own dog . . . I bought a puppy from a breeder.
I could rationalize my decision for days, but, in short: I had paid my dues, and I was selfish.
After training so many dogs over the years, I knew I could overcome any obstacle, but, more importantly, I knew what I needed in a dog. I knew I needed a large dog who was human- and animal-sociable, who would be playful but not intensely active. I had decided I wanted a Bernese Mountain Dog, a breed which fit all these qualifications. So, with shame and certitude, I picked out a wonderful breeder, and I bought my puppy. It’s all worked out swimmingly, but only because I approached this enormous decision with proper thought.
If you are considering getting a dog, here are some helpful points to guide your decision:
-What is your lifestyle? BE HONEST. Do you work 8-12 hours a day? You’ll need a dog walker, at the least. If you do not work from home, do not get a puppy. They are like babies. They can’t be locked in crates or kitchens eight hours a day. Get an older dog, at least nine months old.
-Are you active? Do you run multiple miles/kilometers every day? Do you climb mountains on the weekends? Does your natural high put caffeine to shame? Great. Then get a young dog who is as energetic as you. Otherwise, get a mellow older dog who is cool watching reruns of Seinfeld on the couch with you.
-Do you have money? Because you’ll need it. Dogs are expensive. Vet care costs as much as human medical care these days. Add in quality dog food, dog walker, toys, grooming, and that adorable camouflage rhinestone collar that your dog you couldn’t live without, and we’re talking hundreds if not thousands of dollars/pounds a year.
-Are you an uptight clean-freak? Do you like everything in your home to be just-so? Do you like your shoes/couch/curtains/carpet/sunglasses better than your friends? Don’t get a dog. Get a lizard. It won’t destroy anything, ever.
-Are you a total push-over? Do you have trouble saying no and MEANING IT? Does your resolve melt at cute? See above, re: lizard.
-Never buy a dog from a pet store. It’s canine trafficking.
-Adopt a homeless dog. There is nothing else like it.
-Buying from a breeder? Does the breeder have more than one litter a year? Look elsewhere. Responsible breeders have one, maybe two, litters a year. Their dogs live in the house with them, not in kennels out back.
-Ask questions! You should screen the breeder as thoroughly as they are screening you. There should be mountains of paperwork involved. Acquiring a dog, like acquiring a human, should not be easy.
-Finally, don’t expect perfection. The dog, like you, will not be perfect.
But he might be close:
All images © Emily Petrone for BitchBuzz.com