This new pup (whose name is now Chewy) is such a neat dog. I love how he and Murry are together. I was afraid the size difference would be a problem, but if anything, Murry ends up getting hurt far more than Chewy.

Chewy lures Murry into playing tug-of-war with this pom-pom hair band all the time. He pulls it tight, then lets go. SNAP! Gets Murry every time. And he lures Murry into chasing him at high speeds through the house, then when he senses Murry is into it enough that he’s not paying attention, he ducks under something low and Murry runs smack into it. Over and over again. My poor clueless boy.

I got a little grief after last Sunday’s column because I bought a full breed instead of a shelter dog, which I really would have preferred. It was a tough thing for me. I hate the idea of deliberately breeding dogs when shelters are full, especially when there are so many irresponsible breeders out there, treating dogs like they’re workers on a production line, churning out pups.

With the exception of Murry and two German shepherds (one in the 1960s and another in the early 80s), my family has always had mutts. Murry is a full breed–a soft coated wheaten terrier. He was purchased for us by relatives after our baby died. Since Mitch and I were still married then and he was terribly allergic to dogs, they chose a Wheaten because they’re hypoallergenic.

Anyway, I didn’t want to get a full breed, so for the last few months, my daughter and I had been going online to the different websites like Petfinders and the local shelters looking for a small Yorkie-ish dog. There was nothing. (On Petfinders, there actually are many Yorkies listed as available, but there are nearly none that aren’t marked as not liking children, cats or other dogs, and NONE anywhere close to West Virginia.)

What it ended up boiling down to, though was this wasn’t MY dog or MY money. It was my daughter’s choice and decision and responsibility. She understands about animals in the shelter. It’s where we got our cat Gypsy, who was the next scheduled to be euthanized. (She was older than the rest and had been there the longest.) She’s far more aware than most eight-year-olds, but she’s still just a kid. And this pup–this full breed pup–is what she wanted. And there’s no way I can look at the two of them (or the three of them, if you count Murry) and think he was any kind of mistake. I love this bright, happy little dog. I love how he is with Celeste. The rest of the crowd is mine. He’s hers.

I DO want to look into a few local puppy mills I was told about, along with some pet stores. If there are bad breeders in this area, I’d love to hear about them. If you don’t want to post your comments here in a public forum, send me an email directly at karinfuller@cnpapers.com. I appreciate it!

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