Three weeks later – still in shock, but business must go on – I re-scheduled the training: the trip would now include Boston, and then New York. I worked out the days so Juli could come with me (never pass up a chance to deliver my Bride to a major urban shopping opportunity!). We put DelRay in to board at University Vet in Fairfax, and Juli and I hopped a train.
Boston was first, and the following day we trained down to New York. Juli shopped while I taught. At the end of the session, I left, and joined Juli on the streets of Manhattan on a beautiful afternoon.
We stopped into a pet store on Lexington to get some kitty treats for Delray, lest we encounter the Dread No-Treats Syndrome*. The store was one of those “shotgun” types – a long but narrow floorplan, commonly found in the city (you Burbians may not be familiar with the type). Down the right side, and across the rear wall, were kennel cages filled with puppies – mostly Poodles, Bichon Frise's, and other blisteringly-white “frou-frou” dogs.
But… all the way in the back, there was this little wheaten-colored ball of scraggly fluff with huge brown eyes, who cocked his head, looked me dead in the eye, and let out a single, soft whine – I heard him from where I stood.
I made a beeline toward the rear, with Juli following me. The salesgirl asked if she could be of service. I indicated the ball of scraggly fluff, who was looking straight at me, silent, calm.
“Please put the puppy in my arms,” I said.
“You know what’s going to happen!” warned Juli.
“Nonetheless,” I repeated, “please put the puppy in my arms.”


The scraggly ball of fluff was delivered to my arms, and he looked up at me, sighed, and dropped his little chin on my forearm… and that was pretty much it! I could read his mind completely, word for word.
He said “Hey, Dad, you made it! The Government just sent you a pick refund check and you’re going to cash it and move some money around and come back for me because even though I’m a pure-bred pup we pure-bred puppies need love too, and you’re going to cancel your Amtrak tickets and see if you can rent a car because Amtrak doesn’t allow pets and you’re going to come back tomorrow and pick me up and we’re going to go to your house (wherever that is) and we’re going to be absolute best friends forever!”
They wouldn’t let us buy him that day – it was late, they were about to close, and they warned us that particular pup – a Cairn Terrier, was a particularly-demanding breed (kudos to them for doing Due Diligence). We bought the book, and left.
After viewing the tragically-altered skyline, we went to Hertz, picked up
the car, and I drove us back to Lex, where Juli dashed inside and picked up
the pup.


Juli emerges from American Kennels with the puppy, who is enconsed inside the blue box. The accompanying bag is filled with puppy food, treats, vitamins, and the other related minutae of puppydom.
Once inside our rented Chrysler, we popped the little guy out of his box, and he nestled with Juli for the long drive home.
Aside from one frightened moment as we emerged from the tunnel, he seemed to realize that he was in very good hands.













