Yes, we have no dogs for you today!

“Sir, sir, excuse me sir. We’re closed now, you need to leave.”
I looked up the man addressing me. He looked very stern as he stood by the door with his left hand on the light switch. I remained seated in a large room where about half an hour ago it was filled with people. I looked down again. “Sir, sir,” he addressed me again, “you need to leave. I have to lock up the place.”
I looked up again and he could tell by the look on my face that I was sad, very sad. “No more dogs?” I asked in a voice just louder than a whisper as if I was afraid me would hear me.

“Yes sir,” he replied taking his hand off the wall switch as he quickly glanced at his watch. “Yes sir, we have many dogs, but none want to come out of their crates.” I nodded and stood up slowly.

“I’ll tell you what I can do,” he began again glancing at his watch. He looked at me sadly and smiled. “Why don’t you come out this way,” he indicated the direction with his right hand. “You can walk right by the crates and if there’s a dog you want, you can take it.”

My face immediately brightened. “Really?” I asked surprised. What a great guy I thought, I must remember in my will.

“Yea,” he replied trying to usher me out, “you seem to be the only one a dog didn’t choose.” I had a lightness in my step now as I walked towards him. He led the way past row upon row of crates with dogs in them. Some small and squat and some large and massive. As I walked by, the dogs all looked at me. I detected they were afraid I was going to choose one of them. Before I go any further, I should bring you, the reader, up to date.

It was a couple of days ago I happened to see an article in my local rag about a pound that was having an event which apparently was not only well publicised, but was one in a series of events held all over the state. There was a website which I clicked on and it led me to a You Tube video of a prior event. I sat there at my computer mesmerised, I couldn’t believe it. The shrieks of joy and the rivers of tears that splashed on the floor made me a believer. Apparently, it was on a first come first serve basis. You had to sign up and then they contacted you to let you know the date and time of your event.

When I arrived at the local VFW hall, I was ushered into a large room that was already filled with people sitting in rows upon rows of wobbly chairs. What do expect from an underfunded VFW? Anyway, I was shown to my seat by a well meaning midget. I sat down and as soon as the last seat was taken, the lights were lowered and a loudspeaker came on blasting the opening theme of Space Odyssey 2001. Then, when that died down and finished reverberating around the sparsely decorated hall, there was silence. Suddenly, the far door opened and a dog came in and as it walked down the rows of people, the tenseness grew. Suddenly, the dog which looked like a cross between a French Poodle and a French Bulldog, as if there really is such a breed, stopped and put its paw on the lap of a decrepit old man. The shrieks of delight went up, and the clapping nearly drowned out my thoughts. The man grabbed the ugly dog in his arms so tightly, it looked as if its eyes were about to pop out.  Then an usher came over and escorted him out, no doubt to do the necessary paperwork. This went on for a few hours. Sometimes when they let a dog in, it made a bee line for me and then at the last minute turned direction and sat down in front of someone else. The cries of delight and fake tears were everywhere.

Some dogs I mentally shoed away, because there was no way I would take a little rat for a walk in my neighbourhood. Yay! I can see my next-door neighbours, a step above trailer trash, say to each other, “darling, look. See what Peter has. Poor thing. He’s dragging his little penguin by the throat, oh I’m sorry that’s a Pekinese, isn’t it darling, a Tibetan Pekinese?” Ignoramuses, they are.

When one such animal came close to me, I glared at it and it ran away in the opposite direction and peed on some old woman’s shoes. Everyone screamed with delight. The old woman not wanting to be embarrassed, picked up the pigmy while it was still peeing and so she had a stream of yellow dripping down her chin. Very becoming, I thought.

And so the night moved on. No dog came and sat by me. There was a beautiful black lab that walked in looking afraid and I willed it to come over to me, but it didn’t listen and instead stopped by a child in a wheelchair. I guess that was ok. I applauded this time. And so, the end came and it was just me with no dog.

I walked along the crates and I saw some really nice animals but nothing I’d like to take home and then suddenly, I stopped. There she was the dog of my dreams. “I want this one!” I shouted to the custodian.

“Sorry,” he replied, “can’t take her. Suzie is my dog. I just put her in a crate when I have to clean up the place.” My head drooped and he saw that, “how about this one?” he asked.

I looked up. You must be kidding, I thought. That’s a rat what’s it doing in here. “That’s Rufus,” he said.

‘Hey guy,’ I thought again, ‘you didn’t hear me. I don’t want a rat. I have plenty living in the foundations of my home, I don’t need another.’

“That’s Rufus,” he said again.

Yea, yea, yea, I heard you the first time. I saw a German shepherd, “how about this one?” I asked, “no, don’t tell me. She’s already owned by someone.”
“No,” he replied sounding upbeat, “Rachel is free to go.”
Suddenly, life changed for me. I walked up to the crate and smiled at the large black German Shepherd. The custodian opened the door of the crate and the dog of my dreams backed away and began to shiver. I guess she didn’t want to go home with me. He closed the door to the crate.

“Sir,” he said glancing at his watch, “I’m going to be late for dinner. I need to clean up and lock the doors.”
“Ok,” I said to him resigning myself to my fate. I went back and he opened Rufus’ crate. At first, Rufus didn’t want to come out. She put all her paws out and grabbed the sides of the door. She wasn’t going to budge. I was in despair. And then suddenly, Rufus let go of the sides of the door and wagged her tail. She came out of the crate and peed on my shoes. The custodian laughed, but I knew it was the beginning of a long relationship with a dog named Rufus,