Monty Meets World, The Story of How I Got a Bichon Frise Puppy

You've probably been wondering where I've been for the past week.

When we left off, I was in hot pursuit of a black and white poodle mini mixed breed at the WPA Humane Society. On Monday of last week, I stopped back at the Humane Society AGAIN to express my interest in this puppy only to be told that he didn't pass his behavioral evaluation. I was livid... not because this ruled out any possibility of me rescuing him and bringing him home that day but because of the situation the employees of the humane society put that poor puppy in.

Imagine you're an 8 month old puppy and you're picked up by strange people as a stray dog. You're then taken to a noisy, smelly kennel where all you hear and see are large pitbull mixes barking, yelling and causing all kinds of a commotion day and night. You're kept there for a week before getting any sort of evaluation and then when some person finally does pay attention to you, you're so scared that you take a nip at him thus causing you to not be adoptable by a woman that's been calling and stopping in all week to see if you're available or by anyone else that may express interest in rescuing you as well.

The woman I spoke to reassured me that while it did put him on the chopping block (at EIGHT months old) they would be contacting local poodle rescues to see if one of them would take him first.

It was little reassurance. I was mad at the Humane Society, I felt horrible for that little puppy and I was defeated because there was nothing I could do to help him.

My boyfriend held my hand as we walked back to the car and told me not to worry, that someone would find him and love him just as much as I would have. "Did you call that woman from the paper?" I asked him in response; I just wanted to put the entire situation behind me as quickly as possible and we had seen a classified ad in the PPG for Bichon Frise puppies the day before.

"Yeah," he said. "But there was no answer. I left a voice mail but she didn't get back to me."

"Well let me try her again."

She answered and it turns out that she lived over in Brighton Heights, only about 5 minutes away from where the Boyfriend and I live in the Mexican War Streets. We set up an appointment for 5:30pm and went to dinner. I wasn't sure if I'd meet a puppy I liked at her house but it was worth the effort. I always wanted a Bichon Frise and the price she was asking was very reasonable.

My Droid GPSed us to her address easily. I was nervous because I wasn't sure what to expect but when we walked in the door, we were met by Barb (the woman who placed the ad) and her son, 2 adult Bichons named Shelby and Ricky Bobby (win!!!) and the 3 puppies they had left.

It was a wonderful mess of fluff and happiness. As I sat on the floor and was wonderfully attacked by puppies and dogs, Barb told us how Shelby had gotten pregnant by a neighbor dog who was also a purebred Bichon but the family had moved away prior to her realizing it. She told us she could have gotten a lot more than she was asking but there was no way for her to prove the bloodline.

Meanwhile, I extracted myself from the 3 puppies and watched them play together. There were only boys left, which was perfect because it was what I wanted. One of them kept coming back over to me. I'd put him back to play with his brothers but he kept coming back to get picked up and loved. When I asked the puppy if he wanted to come home with me and he gave me kisses, I looked at my Boyfriend.

"I like this one."

What ensued was a flurry of finding an ATM, naming him and going to PetCo for puppy supplies.

The naming process was easy since Bichon Frises are French. I took 5 years of French. "Mon tresor" translates directly from French into "My treasure." So I named him Montresor and we call him Monty.

A week later, to say this dog is my baby is to say the grass is green.

He's being crate trained and its a dreadfully slow process but he's getting the hang of it. The first few days, he was a little timid and scared because it was his first time away from Mommy and his brothers but he's doing a lot better now. He can climb up and down stairs now and loves to play with his Kong toy that the Boyfriend's mother brought for him. He's a little whore for attention so I worry about separation anxiety and can't wait to start being able to take him to the park.

He's going to the vet tomorrow.

He's still learning how to walk on a leash so I have to carry him wherever he goes which I think gets on the Boyfriend's nerves a little. Since I'm the type of person that's going to want to take him EVERYWHERE, I want to get a little brown and beige carrier that can double as a purse.

Haters gonna hate, the dog is my baby. Judge me, I dare you.

So here's some pictures: Monty meet the world. World, here's my Monty:

His collar is a skull and crossbone pattern because he's a badass.

We didn't have a crate for his first night home, so he had to sleep in a box. It's since been remedied.

Baby's first time in bed.

Hiding in the grass.

Monty and his favorite toy, a blue and white kong.

And Monty in the bath.