Star of the Parade

Every show needs a star. Last year it was Knut Knut, aka Sir Nigel Foo, adopted by fellow parade participant, Heidi Staun Saga and her five children. Now I am back a year later trolling the shelters for this years crowd pleaser. At North Cenrtal Shelter I find him, a purebred male Labrador puppy. This four month old baby is an irresistible bundle of love and joy. He is bouncing around his cage and trying to get me me to play with him even from behind the bars. I just have to have him, but he is a stray and not immediately available. All strays are held at least five days from their intake day in case their owner should be looking for them. I use my phone to snap a photograph of him and his ID number and Hannah, who is with me, makes an alert on her phone so she can remind me one day prior to his release. I want to be at the shelter when they open their doors promptly 8 am to claim him, which will mean getting on the road very early to avoid the worst of rush hour traffic.

Three days later I leave my house at 6:30 in the morning and head to North Central Shelter. I am there 20 minutes early so I stand at the gate and wait for the doors to open. At 8 am on the dot I rush to the front desk and request my puppy. No one else is here for him; what luck, I think, if more than one person arrives at the same time for a dog they hold a silent auction for it, which requires potential owners to write on a piece of paper naming their price. The highest bidder gets the dog.

An animal control officer checks the computer using the ID number I provide and announces the dog is not available until the following day. I am in disbelief, I have just dragged myself out of bed and onto the freeway at 6:30 for this little guy. I silently curse Hannah for her misinformation. I say a quick hello and good bye to the little star and tell him I will be back for him tomorrow. He is as disappointed as I am.

The following day I am out the door at 6:30 and arrive at the shelter early and wait at the gate. After a few moments I am joined by another woman; we eye each other warily in silence. Finally I say, "Are we here for the same dog?" She says, "I think so, the lab puppy?" I nod.

Another few minutes pass in total silence before she says, "I have been visiting him everyday this week." I smile and think, I bet you didn't get up at 6:30 in the morning two days in a row and drive an hour here and an hour back for him. Then out of the blue she volunteers that she is a trauma nurse, now I know I am being worked. My competitive streak kicks in and my game face is on. While she is singing like a canary I say nothing, keep my cards close to my chest.

I am already thinking strategies for the silent auction. I am a real estate agent and I certainly know my way round a bidding war; she doesn't know who she is dealing with, I think. Then she tells me she has two little boys at home who are excellent ball throwers. I smile politely, but still say nothing, I am sizing her up. Trauma nurses can't make much money, so if the regular adoption fee is $102, my guess is she'll go to $200. I should bid $201, she won't think to do that, but then I wonder if maybe she'll bid $250. I had better do $301, just to be on the safe side. I am pretty confident that she won't go higher than $300. Inside I am smug and ready for battle. As the animal control officer opens the gate and lets us in we both walk calmly to the front desk. This is not a Harrods sale, I tell myself, no need to run or push. Be dignified, don't show weakness.

Once inside, we explain we are both there for the same dog. They let us know about the silent auction and then they have us sit next to one another and wait while they do the usual medical check on the dog to make sure he is fit for adoption. I am sensing victory when my phone buzzes. It is Hannah, "Did you get the dog?" she asks. "Not yet" I reply by text, "some trauma nurse is here for him so we will have a silent auction."

2013 Knut Knut on a Ducatti!

2012 Parade, Knut Knut in his waggon.

A second later my phone buzzes again, "Mom, let her have him, we'll find another star of the show. Leave now." I suddenly come to my senses. What was I doing? This dog is not homeless, his new Mom is sitting right next to me. I turn to the women and tell her that I am leaving and the puppy is hers. Her face lights up with happiness and relief, she thanks me profusely, but its hard for me to take. I feel guilty, I think about her two little boys waiting at home for their new puppy. I know I lost sight of my mission for a few moments. I take a quick look around the shelter at the inmates, but my heart is just not in it. I am frustrated and disappointed and I head home.

The day of the parade I arrive with my 12 shelter dogs, I never did find my "star" but as it turned out I didn't really didn't need one as last years star made a unexpected guest appearance. Little Knut Knut all grown up now was once again in the parade, this time riding a red Ducatti.  A vast improvement over last year's little red wagon. In fact, he ended up being on ABC news and all over the internet. My little Knut Knut turned out to be the face of the parade, a shining star, along with his glamorous Mom, Heidi.