Nine-Month-Old Pomeranian Puppy
Today on Hubpages, I read a good hub about a Pomeranian. There were plenty of photos. The dog is adorable. Until I read that hub, I had been successful – for the most part – in not dwelling on how much I miss my little Zsa Zsa. She is a Pomeranian I left behind in Arizona. I feel I must pay homage to her. I wanted with all my heart to keep her, but I rescued and re-homed her. I couldn’t bear to put her in the belly of a plane on the last leg of my journey. I had to think of what was best for her.
Pomeranian on Craigslist.
On Maui, a purebred Pomeranian sells for anywhere between $800 and $1500. After settling in Arizona for the summer of 2011, I saw an advertisement on Craigslist for a purebred female Pomeranian. The owner wanted to sell her for $125. Red flags went up. I phoned the number immediately to find out more information. The man who answered my phone call was vague in his answers to my calmly-asked queries. This caused my brain to go into protection mode. You know that mode where you have to protect every living creature in the canine kingdom whether you have the living space – or not?
Little Zsa Zsa
She Never Looked Back.
The man had a lovely foreign accent. He sounded as though he was of South American, Central American, Mexican or maybe East Indian descent. I had no idea, so I pictured him each way, turning his image in my mind like a Rubic’s Cube: animal welfare advocate, dog breeder....Which would it be? When you are peering only through a telephone line and everything is in Technicolor, the possibilities are numerous as to why the man would want to give away his precious nine-month old female Pomeranian. Had he been kind to this little dog? That was my main and unvoiced concern. Why was he advertising his dog at such a low price? He told me the dog is healthy, but said he just didn’t have time for her anymore. He said I could phone later in the day, at 2:00 p.m. to find out if she is still available, but he was too busy for further conversation at that moment.
I did phone the man at 2:00 pm. I arranged to meet him with the dog. He gave me vague directions to his part of town. He told me to phone when I neared the intersection of Power Road and Southern Avenue. I hoped I would get to see where this little Pom had been living so that I could understand what her life had been like the past seven months. My (adult) daughter and I hopped into the car and off we went. As we approached the named intersection in Mesa, I phoned the man. He gave some weird reason why he and his dog would need to meet me at the gas station. He mentioned the little dog’s name as Queenie. I knew I’d want to change the name as soon as possible. It was 110 degrees outside, breezeless, while my daughter and I stood talking to the man with this poor little dog in a big fur coat. The young man said he needed to sell Queenie so he could pay his phone bill! I scooped her up. The first moment she saw me, she had wanted up. It’s funny how she knew she wouldn’t be my daughter’s dog; she’d be mine. The man mentioned proudly that he had taken Queenie for walks regularly every evening at 6:00 pm between his college classes. Six o’clock in Arizona in the month of September averages 106 to 110 degrees Fahrenheit! It was torture for this furry little friend in my arms. I decided I wanted to rescue her even though I didn’t know how I’d keep her or for how long. At the very least I would find a good home for her and change her name.
Zsa Zsa Moves In
I paid the man and put my unnamed gigantic Pom into our vehicle. In my lifetime, I have seen standard-size Pomeranians, miniature Pomeranians and Toy Pomeranians, but I had never seen a Pomeranian this large before.
I hadn’t thought to ask during the phone conversation with the man what size the dog is -- or whether she was a purebred. In the hot sun, he mentioned that she is a purebred. I asked if she has been spayed. He said no. (Something for my to-do list.) She didn't look like a purebred Pomeranian to my untrained eye, but it certainly didn't matter whether she is, was or will be. Her spirit was hers and hers alone: unique, fearless and full of energy.
I named her Zsa Zsa. During her first day in her new home, Zsa Zsa had to get used to two big dogs, two birds and three cats. She wanted everyone to know she was the boss, but she soon found out that Kela, the Pionus parrot has that title. Second in command is my daughter's dog, Tika. That first day, Tika was so good with Zsa Zsa. She placed her paw over Zsa Zsa’s backside several times when Zsa Zsa was thinking of taking a bite out of one of the roaming parrots in the living room. Tika didn’t have to instruct her for very long. Kela put Zsa Zsa in her place with one quick bite to the paw.
Nightly Fun Run
We had such fun with Little Zsa Zsa all summer. She loves to run. She had Tika and Hansen, the Boxer, running circles in the nearby park every night at midnight when we could take them off their leashes. Such fun times. After a good run, they would race through the sprinklers and sally home, visiting only the most coveted bushes in the neighborhood – the same ones every night. Then Priscilla would hose down all three dogs in the back yard. Chow time was 1:00 in the morning.
Almost Midnight. Time for a Run!
If I Could Have Rode In Cargo With Her....
I wish I could have kept Zsa Zsa. Complications and travels came up so that I couldn’t. She is too big a dog to bring into the cabin of an aircraft. I would have had to place her in the cargo, climate-controlled area of the plane when I left Arizona. Yes, I could have gotten a half a sedative for her like I did for Emerald Kitty, but I wouldn’t have been able to check on her and know she was doing all right under medication. She couldn’t have made the trip without medication. She would have felt terrified in the bottom of plane, alone.
In autumn, I placed an ad and fielded many calls from people who said they wanted to come meet her. None of them sounded quite right. Finally, just the right person called. I was very lucky to find a really good home for Zsa Zsa before we left Arizona for the winter. Zsa Zsa is safe and she is loved in her new home.
This brings to mind that adage of the 1970’s: If you love something, set it free. If it comes back to you, it is yours. If it doesn’t, it never was.
She can't come back.
I love you, Zsa Zsa. You are where you should be.
© 2012 Pamela Kinnaird W
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