My Rescue Dog (Part 1)

My friend, let’s just call him, Love Him But Hate Him, is one of the most hysterical people I’ve ever met, so you love him. But he doesn’t always think things through, so then you hate him. He works 12 to 14 hours a day, but decided to get a dog. Bad move. I was out shopping one day when Love Him But Hate Him called me and asked me to go check on his dog Diego. He was going to be stuck at work late again and was worried about the dog. No problem. Until I got there. No water. The place smelled like urine. His wee-wee pad was full. With no food out Diego had eaten part of a book. Living in these squalid conditions was horrible. I put the dog on a leash and took him back to my apartment. What else could I do?

I left Love Him But Hate Him a message telling him I’d be keeping his dog until one of us found him a new home. I would’ve loved to have kept Diego, but my life was too busy. I worked all the time and was away most weekends doing comedy. I couldn’t keep Diego forever, but I could watch him for awhile. Now I had a dog, but not much else. During the "rescue," I looked through the apartment for dog supplies, and there

was nothing. I dropped Diego off at my place and looked for a pet store.

I walked into this pet store on the Upper East Side, trying to make my way to the back where they keep the dog food, when this little 2-pound-nothing dog caught my eye. This big, fat guy was holding the smallest dog I had ever seen. I started to talk to him about the puppy he was holding. He was going to buy it for his wife. The pup looked scared. He asked me if I wanted to hold her. If anyone ever asks you to hold a puppy your first response has to be no. Never hold a puppy. Do you hear me? Never!

The puppy had been shaking, scared and sad, but now she was licking my face and wagging her tail. The fat guy said, “I can’t buy this dog. This dog is yours. It’s your puppy.” I said, “But I just came in to buy some dog food.” He said, “I don’t care. That’s your dog.” Unsure of what to do I called my BFF (Best Friend Forever). I told her that some fat guy gave me a puppy to hold, and now he’s telling me it’s my dog. She said, “Do not move. You’re not buying a dog. I’ll be right there.” Meanwhile, a pet store guy saw me holding this cute dog and came over to start selling me. Pet Store Boy was cute and flirty, but wasn’t he just trying to get a sale?

My BFF found me in a back room with Pet Store Boy while playing with Cocoa. Naming the dog within five minutes of meeting it is a bad sign. Cocoa was running all over. Playing. Nipping. Feisty as hell. So cute. My BFF said, “Yea, that’s a cute dog, but you’re not getting it. You already have Diego.” I said, “I know, but...” That’s how it went. I-know- but, I-know-but. Pet Store Boy was selling us on the value of having more than one dog. They’ll play together.

They won’t be lonely. You won’t feel guilty. During this back and forth, something caught my BFF’s eye, and she asked Pet Store Boy to get it down. It was a dog. The dog looked like the dog I was about to buy. Small, cute and fluffy. She looked at the dog for five seconds and said, “I’m getting this dog.” I said, “You’re getting that dog, but I’m not getting this dog?” We spent 3-hours in the pet store going back and forth about getting the dogs or not.

Four thousand dollars later, we walked out with food, supplies, dogs and Pet Store Boy’s number. We had charged our dogs. It seemed so wrong. Poor Diego didn’t know what was about to hit him. My BFF was going away for work the next day and asked me to watch Cappy for three weeks. In 24-hours, I had gone from no dogs to three. How hard could it be?

TO BE CONTINUED...