Nigel and Dora

Prior to my shelter shopping spree for the Topanga Days Parade, I had been to an LA Shelter exactly once and that was back in the mid-eighties. I remember it being a depressingly dark,  windowless dungeon that I couldn't wait to escape. I was expecting more of the same when I headed out to West Valley Shelter with my youngest daughter, Sophie, but I was surprised and happy to find it modern, bright and clean. The enclosures were a good size with an indoor space which could be heated and cooled and outdoor space so the dogs could sit in the sun and get fresh air. The staff were caring and helpful and an information sheet on the front of each cage gave details about the animal, which made it easy to identify such things as the available date, name, sex, breed, age and health.

Sophie and I walked around and around, so many Pits Bull, row after row of them. I felt a bit overwhelmed by the barking and the number of dogs to the point that I just wanted to leave. Sophie spotted a little black, male Chihuahua named Nigel. He was in a cage with a couple of other small dogs that seemed to be bullying him. He was cute because the other dogs would bark right at his face and he would squint his eyes tightly as if he was trying to shut them out. Sophie talked me in to taking him.


Out of the six dogs I pulled the week before the parade only two were already fixed and Nigel was one of them. I filled out the paperwork and paid the adoption fee of $102, twenty minutes later we were out of there. It was that simple. Nigel couldn't believe his good fortune. He was such a happy little guy on the ride home and even happier when Sophie took him to the dog park that afternoon.

The next day I headed to East Valley shelter, which is where found I Dora. She was not spayed so they took her up front for a check up to see if she was fit for adoption. Dora thought I was going to take her for a walk and as you can see in this picture she is wagging her tail, excited to be out of her cage.

The following afternoon I picked Dora up from the clinic and brought her straight home. My husband, my daughter, Hannah, and my friend, Skye, were all there waiting for me and I was anxious to see there reaction. Hannah and Skye agreed that even though she was a rather bizarre looking creature it might just work in her favor in the parade. My husband wasn't so complimentary. He poked his head out from his office and took one look at her and scoffed, "No one's going to want that dog, that dog isn't going anywhere." I couldn't help but feel a little disheartened by this, but as it turned out his words were quite prophetic. Samantha Long-Board, as she is known today or Sammie for short, never did go anywhere.