Patti Page recorded the song, “How much is that doggie in the window?” in 1952. Probably from time immemorial humans’ attractions to dogs have been very strong. Anyone who has visited an animal shelter or pet store gets the urge to rescue one of those irresistible animals. We, particularly my wife, are no different.
Immediately after our Stormy the Portuguese Water Dog died, we considered getting a companion for our other dog Sparky, the rescued white jackapoo. This time, we wanted a brown male with a full pedigree. We had planned on getting the dog from a breeder so that we would know its history and would be confident of perhaps fewer health problems. Our full pedigreed Stormy had a full sixteen years of health while our former rescued Sunny, a cockapoo, died early. With an impending seventeen-day vacation, we also decided to wait until we returned to give full attention to the hunt for and care of the new puppy. Not so fast there, dog lovers! A subsequent visit to the Oakland County Animal Shelter and Pet Adoption Center proved to be a fatal attraction.
How much is that doggie in the window?
The one with the waggly tail.
How much is that doggie in the window?
I sure hope that doggie’s for sale.
Well, it was, and we have a mixed breed, white, female in our home two weeks BEFORE our seventeen-day vacation. I mentioned the word “irresistible” earlier. What could we do? After a trial meeting with Sparky, we were convinced that the two dogs were compatible and were meant to be together.
So, the lack of sleep caused by the playful pup’s need for a variety of things including water, poop, pee, and attention is excused by just one look at her big black eyes and the touch of her soft fluffy coat. Heck, we named her Cotton Candy (C. C. for short).
As Patti Page sang:
I don’t want a bunny or a kitty.
I don’t want a parrot that talks.
I don’t want a bowl of little fishes.
You can’t take a goldfish for walks.
Despite laughing at ourselves for being terrible hypocrites, we love that five-pound ball of fun and realize that the “Best laid plans of mice and men often go astray” (Robert Burns’ “Ode to a Mouse”). Or should I say, “Ode a Shitzapoo”?
