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Then they would tell me about their dog's stats, age/breed/likes, and dislikes, which foods to avoid, and their favorite groomers, doctors, and pet sitters. Since it never got personal, as no one gave any indication of even their first name, asked mine, it became fun. And by the third round of this, I was starting to pick up on cues. “What treats are his favorite? Has she gotten a teeth cleaning yet? Where do you go for nail trimmings?”
I started taking notes from other people's recommendations, and an hour passed when I had the entire backside of our supplies list covered with the standards of other dog parents, and my cart was full. All that practicality talk went out the window, and I had a pink sweater, a purple raincoat, and a pink sparkle collar with a heart-shaped tag with my phone number on it that the chihuahuaCoco Chanel Vuitton’smom helped me pick out.
I had the essential food, treats, and dental sticks that the pug King Louis III's mom recommended. The vitamins, toys, and food puzzles that Brussels Griffon,Mr. Dingle’sdad swore by. Then, after seeing another poodle-like dog,Captain Curly-Q, his mom recommended and helped me make an appointment for a grooming inside the building, which Dolly would get on Wednesday.
We breezed through the checkout line. Dolly was worn out from all the pets and attention, and surprisingly, I felt energized. I didn’t wince when the bill was over $200, either.Dulce,the terrier’s mom, told me this would be an expensive trip, but if I purchased quality goods, I wouldn’t need to replace them. So, she made sure I bought the orthopedic dog bed with self-heating capabilities and matching blankets. I was ready for the blow when the amount came out of the cashier's mouth, and happily swiped my credit card, glancing over at Dolly oncemore, who was looking back at me with sleepy eyes.
On the way home, we made a pit stop at the Pup Street dog bakery. I couldn’t resist the urge to stop in afterPriscilla, the long-haired chihuahua’s mom, told me all about it. That they had human-looking food—but it was all for dogs. Getting Dolly a special treat sounded like the perfect way to settle into her new home.
We pulled into the parking lot, snagging a spot right up front. “We’re here,” I let her know, as her expression hadn’t changed in the least since the checkout line.
I was undoing my seatbelt and gathering my purse when I noticed a very striking man come out of the bakery, holding a small dog similar in size to Dolly. He was walking fast to his car with a bakery bag in his hand. No doubt he bought something for that cute fluffy dog he was carrying. He had dark hair, stubble, and a prominent jaw and nose. He looked like a manly-man type, but the small dog he wascarryingreally brought it home for me. Since I’ve only been a pet owner myself for a few hours, I was starting to wonder just how long I’d been missing out on things.
He got into his red truck seconds later, and he and the mysterious fluff were gone. Smiling to myself, “There IS hope, Dolly!” I got out of the car, picked up Dolly, and we went to the bakery.
Priscilla’s mom was spot on. This place was a wonderland. Frosted cookies, birthday cakes, cupcakes, biscuits, treats of all kinds, in any shapes or sizes you could ever need. I wished some of it was for people. After looking at the menu, I settled on a mixed bag of mini cookies, the smallest size they made.
“-Ello! What can I get for ye, sweet cheeks?” The woman behind the counter was loud and charming, talking directly to Dolly.
“A mixed bag of mini cookies, please. For shapes, I’ll take 2 mini hearts, 1 mini princess crown, 1 blue purse, 1 purple pup cup, and… 1 fireman hat because I still don’t know what she wants to be when she grows up.” I didn’t know I had it in me to joke with strangers, but the woman behind the counter burst into laughter. I smiled back, giving Dolly a little pet. I certainly felt a new confidence with her around.
At the register, the same woman rang me up, and I expected the questions to start rolling immediately, and they did. “And what’s yer’ name, ye perfect little chocolate muff’in?”
“This is Dolly.” I hoisted her up in my arms, so she knew we were talking about her.
“Well, nice to meet yew, Doll-ay’ P-aw-ton!”
The people behind me in line all started laughing as did I, and it felt good.
Dolly and I returned to the apartment. I could tell Dolly was happy as she plopped into her new bed once I removed the tags. As my mother suggested, I set up the grass pad on my balcony and then sat and reflected on the day. I couldn’t have pictured what this day would bring in a lifetime. It was more socializing than I had done all year in just a few hours.
And something else happened while I was at the pet store, but I couldn’t quite explain it. It appears I was feeling comfortable in my own skin for the first time in my life—being able to lead with something other than my own insecurities and frizzy hair. I had this little curly dog that everyone wanted to know about, without breaking my personal barriers and limitations. There was a strong sense of community in the pet world, that we were all on the same page.
Maybe having Dolly meant I could be something other than an introverted, jigsaw-loving, husband-wanting shut-in. I was now responsible for someone else’s well-being. It didn’t have to be about me anymore. And then I realized that's exactly what I wanted all along—relief from the pressures of attention. It’s not that I didn’t want people talking to me or directing conversation at me, but up until this moment, that was all that ever happened. Because I was riding solo, aka husbandless, thirty-something spinster, her only outing was church to sit with her 89-year-old best friend. But now that I am a dog owner, it's easing me a little more into the waters of society, finding common ground with others whom I have little in common with, and most of all, attending mandatory class(es) for pet ownership. Samantha did note that the first one was mandatory, but I might needseveral to learn all that I could about the care of my new furry companion.
After sending my mother pictures of everything I bought Dolly as promised, she video-called me. It didn’t matter to my mother if I was sitting in a doctor's office, at the grocery store, or at the movie theater—the lady loved to video call.
“Hi. Where’s Dolly?” She was concerned when I answered with my face instead of the camera pointed at her new grand-dog. I swapped the camera over to show the little furry creature lying asleep in her new bed.
“Oh, there she is! My angel! Okay, Katie. Leave the camera on her. I want to see her. But I just wanted you to see what I ordered for Dolly. It will arrive this week. I got this small wardrobe with—look at them—MINIATURE hangers! So cute. She will need it because I ordered her some—okay, a LOT of clothes.” We laughed as she showed me screenshots of every outfit—princess dresses, footie pajamas, a leisure suit, and an outfit identical to my old private school uniform. I laughed—hard—until I felt nauseous. It was glorious, joyful, gut-busting laughter.
I then decided to check in with Judy, who had no cell phone. It was 3:30 pm, and surely, she was home from the animal shelter by now. She answered on the third ring.
“Hello?” Her voice wasn’t as perky as usual, which made me feel like my mother. “Hi, it's Katie. Is everything okay?”
Judy laughed.
“Yes, hi, Katie! I am fine. I just got home, and I feel a little tired, that’s all. I went to the shelter with Bill and Julie, and, well, they each got a cat and had me pick out the names, which I thought of Tad and Pole. Not very original, I know. But then on the way home, Tad or Pole—I, couldn’t remember which was which, was pawing at me because the shelter ran out of cages because so many people came, and well, I’ve got cat scratch fever, I’m sure of it!” The saga of the car ride wasn’t outwardly funny, but how she told it had me rolling.
“Are you sure? What does the doctor order for that?”
Judy went on, “Now it didn’t scratch meper se. But it thought about it, I know it did. But that doesn’t deter me because you know I like them feisty.”
“Well, I am so glad you made it home in one piece!” Talking to Judy always made my face hurt from smiling.
“Yes, I am too. Samantha told us you came by?”
She surely knew the whole story by now, but I was glad she let me retell it in my own words.
