The Sign

The prospect of owning a dog was one of the few things my sister and I always disagreed on. My sister is not the idealistic airhead that most little girls are between the ages of 7 and 18. She had no aspirations for ponies and never wished on rainbows. She knew the difference between fantasy and reality, having cleverly figured out before she turned 4 that Santa is not a physical person. Yet on this she remained firm to the point of obstinacy: she wanted a dog. She became so entrenched on the issue that my parents started to worry that any stranger with a cute puppy could lure her away.

But the years went by, and Kelly never got her puppy. Every year she became more desperate: first she said that the puppy could be her gift for both Christmas and her birthday; then it was for 2 Christmases and a birthday; then for two of each. She learned how to use Excel purely for the purpose of creating schedules for walking, training, feeding, and grooming the dog. Her determination won over my dad, and then slowly my mom, until I became the final frontier on the quest to pet ownership.

In retrospect, I was never entirely opposed to the idea of a family pet. I will admit to having fantasized about having dogs in my house, bringing warmth to the house with their energy and innocence. In those dreams, the size or breed did not matter; the small dog would sleep on my bed and the big dog would lie by my feet. A German shepherd would guard the house while a corgi would entertain houseguests.

Typical example of my imagination

Yet I hesitated. I love puppies and kitties as much as the next wide-eyed person, but I’m also very practical in my approach to life. Everyone has seen a show on TV where an animal has been mistreated, either through neglect or abuse. My heart cringes at every poorly treated intelligent creature, and I did not want this fantasy dog to be among its ranks. In my house, everyone went about his own business and only really communicated to ask for help. Such a family dynamic is not conducive to housing a puppy that, despite what some people may think, is actually a faster-growing version of a human baby. To bring a puppy home would mean potty training, crating, and budgeting additional time to the already bloated family schedule. Would the dog have free access around the house? How would he or she get out if he or she needed to go use the bathroom? Would my sister really follow through on her schedules? For all my planning and questioning, I never expected it to end the way it did.

On an ordinary Saturday afternoon my family and I were walking out of a Korean barbeque restaurant when my sister spotted a van with the rear opened. Beside it was a shrunken Asian lady, and inside the van itself was what sounded like a litter of puppies. The variety of puppies caught me off guard. I saw a golden retriever, a black lab, and even a pug. Nudged in between all of them was the most beautiful blue-eyed husky I had ever laid eyes on.

Dog, why you so cute?

My sister immediately fell in love with her. While my parents chatted with the lady, Kelly was already playing with the puppy right there in that dirty parking lot. She forgot all about the mundane cares of the world, sitting down on the filth-ridden asphalt as the puppy walked around in circles, curiously sniffing. I could clearly tell that my parents were overjoyed to see her finally so content, and that her happiness had invariably won them over as well. Plus, for four hundred dollars, it was a steal.

So I became the only one on the scene who still wasn’t convinced that buying the puppy was the right thing to do. After all, so many questions still remain unanswered. The lady suggested I pick the husky up to see how healthy she was. I was reluctant, not because I didn’t believe her, but because I was fearful that I may bond with her and become unable to deny her entry to my home.

As I held the tiny creature in my arms, I felt a sense of curious wonder. In my hands lied a creature that, without a second thought, would curl up in my arms and give me its full and complete trust. As I held her gently my rationale and emotions waged war within me. There was nothing I would have liked more than to take this puppy home with me that instant and share all my love with her, but I didn’t know if my family or I could handle her long term. How sad must she feel if at first she were to be welcomed with open arms, but is eventually given away as her novelty wears out? I asked the universe to give me a sign: something, anything, to tell me that taking her home was the right thing to do.

People often read situations as they want, seeing meaningful messages in clearly meaningless actions or things. I later learned that animals frequently exhibit this behavior I’m about to describe, but at that moment in time and space it was probably the most meaningful thing I had ever seen.

The cute, furry little blue-eyed animal winked at me.

Shelly is now going on 3 years old. She is probably still one of the best purchases I have made in my entire life.

That’s right. She was as long as about 2 of those red slippers