New Addition

World- meet Esther.

Esther 5/10/22

Wes and I drove to Ohio yesterday to adopt this sweet girl. She had been surrendered to a rescue after being deemed too fat to breed. With nothing but a 5x5 crate and an open food source, she ate herself to the point of obesity, which, if she became pregnant, could have killed her. Up until a month ago she had never felt grass or sunshine or love. She didn't even have a name- just an identification number- and this, apparently, still passes for humane in this country.

Confession: I bought my first dog, Owen, from a breeder when I was 21. My boyfriend at the time turned me on to corgis and I quickly fell in love with the breed. I researched corgi breeders in Texas, found one I thought looked good, and applied. When it was time to pick him up, my mom, two siblings, and I piled in the car and we drove out to New Waverly, Texas to this little farm off the highway. When we stepped out of the car I was in corgi heaven. There must have been at least twenty of them running around, all fluffy butts and short legs, barking happily in the afternoon sun. When the breeder handed me tiny, eight-week old Owen, I was instantly in love. He was this floofy butterball of a dog with absolutely no legs, great bat ears, and all smiles, and we took to each other right away. I paid the breeder $600 and we drove home- all of us taking turns holding Owen as he slept flat on his back, on our laps.

Baby Owen and me, September 2011

Love at first sight!

What I didn't see that day, and what actually took me years to realize was that as nice as that farm seemed with its prolificity of corgis, it was still a puppy mill. Meaning somewhere on that property, out of sight, were mill moms, living in crates or cages, giving birth to myriad dogs like Owen who then got to go and live great lives at the cost of their own. When this sad fact finally dawned on me, I struggled with immense feelings of guilt at having contributed to that system. Despite this, I have never regretted getting Owen. He has been my best friend and most loyal companion for the past 11+ years and I love him dearly. But I also acknowledge where he came from and have vowed to never support such institutions again. When we know better, we do better.

Owen, 2020

Fast forward eleven years and I've fallen hopelessly in love with french bulldogs, but all I knew about them was that they were insanely adorable and impossibly expensive. So expensive and in-demand that I assumed it would never happen and I would be left to weep over every one of them I saw at the dog park or the farmers market. It was the same love that I felt for corgis more than a decade ago when I discovered them, and the same determination to make one of them mine someday.

And then last month Wes and I decided to take a walk around Bryan Park. Just as we stepped on the sidewalk, a group of young twenty-somethings crossed our path with a tiny, eight-week old frenchie puppy. She was so brand new they didn't even have a name for her yet, and literally everyone who walked by stopped and crouched low to the ground to try to pet this excitable, uncoordinated, rolly polly. Watching her prance around and clumsily topple over in her joy and excitement made my entire week, and I didn't shut up about the encounter for days. Then, two weeks ago when I was working at the farmers market, a couple approached with this little frenchie named Lloyd who was so goofy looking with his tiny pink tongue sticking out that I had to run around the corner of my table to meet him. He was so energetic that I could barely even pet him, and when he tried to jump up to see over my table and all I could see were bat ears and the teeniest tip of his tongue, well, that settled it: I was getting one.

I came home and talked to Wes about it and we started looking online. Something to know about Wes: he would have made a fantastic detective. If you're on the hunt for something, he can always find it. I looked on Petfinder and found a couple of sweet, ex-mill mamas that, upon inquiry, I learned had already been adopted. I slumped back in my seat, defeated, and thought that was that. Not Wes. My defeat galvanized him to keep looking and before I knew it, he was sending me link after link to frenchies that were up for adoption- all of which came from mills and were considered rescues. He put in a couple of applications and the next thing I knew, we were accepted by two- one in Oklahoma and one in Ohio. We chose the one in Ohio because it was a drive we could do there and back in a day.

When we arrived at the rescue, a woman named Lisa brought Esther to us, who was shaking like a leaf from head to toe. She was completely terrified and kept trying to run back to her pen, until we put up a barricade between the kennels and us. Wes and I sat on the ground while she shook and stayed next to Lisa. We all chatted for a bit about her backstory and I tentatively put my hand out. Esther slowly made her way to me after about ten minutes and allowed me to pet her and then moved over to Wes. We were in love. Lisa told us that she's basically a 2-3 year old puppy. She's never walked on a leash, and isn't housebroken. We promised to be patient with her and get her into puppy school and our vet as soon as possible. 

Wes and Esther, just before we took her home.

When we brought Esther home, all she wanted to do was run around the house like crazy and drink lots of water. She's got a lot of energy to burn after years of confinement and she's settling in wonderfully. Owen and Cleo seem completely nonplussed which I think is about the best energy we could hope for them to have right now. They're all getting along just fine.

Esther and Cleo napping

What I learned this weekend was that you can find just about any dog breed you want if you're willing to search and be patient. You may not get a puppy, but you'll be giving a life to a dog that really deserves a good one after enduring so much trauma and neglect. Watching Esther roll around in the grass and army-crawl up to me to get her ears scratched- it's just the sweetest thing. I know that from here on out, these will be the kinds of dogs that Wes and I adopt, and I can't wait to watch sweet Esther blossom into the best version of herself, and live such a beautiful life here with us. I'm filled with so much gratitude and joy today and I couldn't be more excited for what's to come.

Esther enjoying the grass and the sunshine.