A Consignment Purchase

I had good looks from the start.

It was the week of Thanksgiving in 1995. I was hanging out at Penny’s Paws and Claws, a pet shop in the burgeoning California central valley town of Folsom, with a bunch of other puppies. We had a steady stream of visitors that fawned over us, picked us up, talked to us as if we were babies, and generally made us feel like the most important things in the world (and really, who could argue that?).

I studied the visitors closely once I realized that any of them had the power to take me home. I listened carefully to the questions they asked Penny, looking for any clue about a prospective owner’s style.

Most asked about a dog’s personality, lineage and approximate size at maturity. One guy asked all those questions, and more. He had great trepidation about buying his first dog and sought to reduce the risk. So the man worked out a deal with Penny to purchase a puppy on a one-week trial basis.

That guy was Bill. And the dog was yours truly. After another hour's worth of questions, I finally hopped into his car and off I went. I was finally free -- yet I felt like I was on some sort of probation that made no sense to me.