Knut Knut

Next stop on our quest for parade pups was Agoura Hills. Agoura Animal Shelter is the local shelter for Topanga Canyon and in my opinion it is the country club of LA shelters. It is tree lined and spacious with large, grassy enclosures, a vet clinic on site and plenty of volunteers giving love and care to a comparatively small number of dogs. Our Roxy, all grown up now, actually ended up there once after she dug her way out of our yard hoping for a free romp in the state park. Tom quickly checked the shelter website and sure enough, there she was, smiling and wagging her tail in her mug shot just minutes after being admitted. I, like any good parent wanted to leave her to spend a cold night in the slammer so she could think about what she'd done, but Tom just couldn't do it and he raced over there at top speed to bail her out.

So now, just five days from our big day, Hannah suggested we head there looking for more pups. I was doubtful as there are usually long waiting lists for anything remotely cute at Agoura, but I was wrong. It was here we found the star of the show, an adorable white, fluffy puppy of unknown breed. Hannah immediately named him Knut Knut after a polar bear cub she had read about in National Geographic. We couldn't believe such a ridiculously, irresistible creature was available in any shelter but particularly in Agoura.

Now with little Knut Knut safe in Hannah's care, we were halfway there. We had three of the six participants. The next day, encouraged and excited we took a quick trip to the South Central Shelter. This proved to be a complete waste of time as it reduced Hannah to hysterical, body heaving sobs within ten minutes and we decide it is best to leave. My advise, do not go to South Central Shelter if you have a tender heart. Fortunately, I do not. Years ago at one thanksgiving dinner during the general upheaval of my divorce from their father, I asked my girls to say something nice about each person at the table. When it came to Hannah's turn, she could not seem to come up with anything nice to say about me even when heavily pressed. She turned her head this way and that as if she was really having to think very hard. Finally, with the dinner getting stone cold in front of us, she said quietly, "You're as tough as old boots, Mum." Let me say now, she was not far wrong and this quality has served me well over the years and never more than in my efforts in dog rescue.