It was determined a puppy was required.
There were pleas, bargaining commenced, hushed conversations with third-party family members were initiated, all factors were considered and a deal was struck – we’d glance at Kijiji occasionally to see if there were any puppies for sale.
As if.
Puppies became my new hobby and I was immediately hooked and suffering from tiny puppy syndrome (or TPS to those in the know).
Yet all the joy and prospects of puppy-motherhood were nearly quashed because there are so many scams online. Their “we’ll ship the (incredibly cheap) puppy to you once we get your deposit” was met with silence when we offered to meet sellers at the Canadian/U.S. border for the transfer.
Ghosting commenced but soon another puppy in Florence was found and then a third in Owen Sound.
As we were looking, a fraud/scam alert floated to the surface of the emails from the South Simcoe Police that sounded too familiar. A fraud victim had e-transferred a deposit for a puppy and then the contact became unreachable and blocked the person on social media.
The Florence lady had “lots” of puppies but wouldn’t send pictures of them and would only take cash.
An Owen Sound woman had three four-month-old puppies but they just hadn’t had time to get them their shots, which frankly could lead to my older dog picking up any parasites the puppy got from its mother.
Alarm bells rang repeatedly throughout the week and then a glimmer of hope appeared in a text from a friend.
A teeny, tiny tawny 10-week old WeePoo was found.
That’s a West Highland Terrier/Miniature Poodle or 'WestiePoo' to the uninitiated.
The price was higher than we wanted to pay but she sent pictures. The puppy was younger than expected but had all of its shots.
She said she’d meet us at a Highway 400 On Route station at 1 p.m. and then sent a friend who was an agonizing 15-minutes late.
But then the clouds opened, the sun shone through and a tiny puppy was gently placed in my arms.
Unfortunately, she’d given him a bath with a weird aftershave, so sneezing commenced, but once my eyes cleared, I was holding what appeared to be a clump of hair with two tiny brown eyes and I swear what can only be described as a tiny grin.
Fragile bones seemed placed randomly underneath and a tiny tail was tucked in there somewhere.
My travelling companion performed inspections while I smiled happily and blissfully ignored all the questions I’d meant to ask.
Yes, he was a boy, yes his eyes were clear and so was his rear (when she found it). Yes, there were veterinary papers indicating inoculation and yes, finally, no upfront cash was required, a simple e-transfer would suffice.
Happily, the lady delivering the puppy was as enamoured with the “little fella” as we were. A basket of goodies including a dog blanket, bowl, leash, and a pouch of food was offered and gratefully accepted.
Now Sir Wilburforce runs zoomies around the house day and night, finding and missing his piddle pad and good-naturedly wearing tiny sweaters. He’s settling in nicely with the house cat and his big brother and hero, Kevin, the Boxer-mix.
We learned buying a puppy is a business transaction smothered up by an emotional blanket of the need for something warm and cuddly.
It’s a buyer beware scenario of how needy we can be as humans to find puppy love and how tenuous our grasp of how ne’er do wells are ready to pounce on our naivete.
But if we wise up and bring an (almost) objective friend into the mix, we can meet the real puppy breeders on their terms and find love in a silly mop of hair.
