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| Perlina |
Our third dog came to us from Mexico. She would definitely qualify as one of my more impulsive rescues. Three years ago I signed up to receive an email newsletter from a little town in Baja, Mexico, called La Ventana. I am particularly fond of this area and wanted to keep up with the local news. The newsletter would appear in my inbox every few days and over the course of a month I saw increasingly more desperate pleas from a woman begging for help with two dogs she called Chapis and Perlina. Apparently, she had found them tied to a tree and had been feeding them and caring for them, but now she was leaving Mexico to come back to the states and was worried that without her protection they would not survive.
I email her for a photograph of the dogs and ask her what city she will fly into when she comes back to the States. She sends me her only photo, an out of focus shot of both dogs from the rear and tells me she was flying to LAX. I suggest she bring the dogs and I assure her I will find good homes for them. In fact, I already have a home in mind, as clients of mine are actively looking for a small, female terrier.
I persuade my clients to take both dogs on trial and arrange to drop them off on my way back from the airport, which I figure will probably end up being about ten in the evening. A week later with flight details in hand, I arrive at the designated rendezvous: a busy airport hotel. I pace the lobby nervously for a good 45 minutes and pester the staff at the front desk for news, when finally two dog carriers appear amid a good deal of luggage. I know right away these are the dogs and peer into the cages at a couple of disreputable creatures. I immediately understand why she sent me a photo of their butts. Besides dental issues, the animals are filthy, and one of them, Perlina, is very overweight and not the least bit friendly.
I finally track down their owner by following the porter and the dogs to a hotel room. I introduce myself and within a few moments she gives me both dogs but minus the carriers, which she explains are borrowed and must be returned. I am too tired to argue, so I grab the dogs and load them into my car and drive to the Venice canals to a stunning architectural home on the water. My clients graciously take the dogs in without fuss. It is very late and everyone is anxious to get to bed. I head home exhausted and with a bad feeling. Both dogs were clearly filthy, stressed and in poor health. This doesn't seem like a good fit to me. All I could do was hope and cross my fingers.
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| Chapis |
I email her for a photograph of the dogs and ask her what city she will fly into when she comes back to the States. She sends me her only photo, an out of focus shot of both dogs from the rear and tells me she was flying to LAX. I suggest she bring the dogs and I assure her I will find good homes for them. In fact, I already have a home in mind, as clients of mine are actively looking for a small, female terrier.
I persuade my clients to take both dogs on trial and arrange to drop them off on my way back from the airport, which I figure will probably end up being about ten in the evening. A week later with flight details in hand, I arrive at the designated rendezvous: a busy airport hotel. I pace the lobby nervously for a good 45 minutes and pester the staff at the front desk for news, when finally two dog carriers appear amid a good deal of luggage. I know right away these are the dogs and peer into the cages at a couple of disreputable creatures. I immediately understand why she sent me a photo of their butts. Besides dental issues, the animals are filthy, and one of them, Perlina, is very overweight and not the least bit friendly.
I finally track down their owner by following the porter and the dogs to a hotel room. I introduce myself and within a few moments she gives me both dogs but minus the carriers, which she explains are borrowed and must be returned. I am too tired to argue, so I grab the dogs and load them into my car and drive to the Venice canals to a stunning architectural home on the water. My clients graciously take the dogs in without fuss. It is very late and everyone is anxious to get to bed. I head home exhausted and with a bad feeling. Both dogs were clearly filthy, stressed and in poor health. This doesn't seem like a good fit to me. All I could do was hope and cross my fingers.
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