I was walking around a big horse expo in Lansing, Michigan, with my friend Kristi this past weekend. We came to the end of a vendor aisle, and there was a lady pushing a baby stroller. But my "dog radar" was up. That stroller was full of puppies! Of course, puppies being magnetized and all, I was all over that.

They were half Jack Russell and half Rat Terrier, just six weeks old. They seemed fat and healthy. The lady obliged me and pulled one little guy out and plunked him in my arms. He was tan and white, with white around his nose.

Of course, my wheels were turning. Cajun is great with puppies. Rip is a maternal dog. They surely wouldn't mind this new addition. And I NEED a trick dog. My trick dog died two years ago and I've been in a slump ever since. I am going to start teaching classes soon. I definitely need a new demo trick dog. What better than a mixed breed terrier?

"He's two hundred dollars," the woman said flatly. "He's had his first shot, and been wormed."

Now to me this seemed like a large amount of money for a mixed breed puppy. But as I looked into his brown eyes, and thought about all the fun times we would have, I knew that $200 would quickly be sucked into the vast vortex of Forgotten Dog Expenses.

He snuggled up under my neck, and the longer I held him, the more attached I became. My friend Kristi wandered off down the aisle to look at stall supplies, but I kept holding that puppy.

Finally, a little red flag went up. That woman was talking about how good a hunter this dog would be, and how his father the Rat Terrier had cleaned her barn of rats. She talked about how Jack Russells were great varmint dogs too. She said I'd never see a mouse or rat around my barn if I took this dog home.

She went on and on, but never during our whole exchange, did she ask me one question about myself.

She should have been asking a lot. How did she know what my lifestyle was? Was I going to force this little guy to live outside? How many other dogs did I have? How did they live? What happened to my last dog?

She cared about none of it. But, this was her BABY. If she was breeding dogs without even caring who bought them, did I want to support her?

Reluctantly I placed the little dog back with his siblings in the baby stroller. I am sure someone else at the expo would pay her $200, so she could go make more mixed breed puppies. But it wasn't going to be me.

We think of rescuing pets, and we primarily think about the benefit to the animal. This is where pet stores get us. We buy the puppy in the window to rescue the puppy, but we leave a space for the next victim coming from the nasty puppy mill. We need to think about the group or individual we are supporting when we adopt.

When adopting a pet, here are five things to consider when choosing a shelter:

1. Cleanliness

This may seem intuitive, but a big building filled with animals is going to have some odor. However, it should not be overwhelming. Food and water dishes should be clean. There should not be stool everywhere. Dogs should be dry with dry sleeping quarters.

2. Savvy Personnel

People who work at the shelter should have some knowledge of the animals, and be able to answer questions about them. For instance, has the animal been exposed to cats or dogs or children? How does it behave with them? Does it object to handling? Socialization of each animal should be noted to the best of the caretaker's ability.

3. Adoption Fees

The best shelters charge a substantial fee to adopt their animals. There should be a cost to cover the spay/neuter and vaccinations of each pet. A fee of around $100 is reasonable.

4. No-Kill Shelters

Be wary of no-kill shelters, as they often house animals that are ill or elderly, or have behavioral issues. Many of these pets should in reality be humanely euthanized, especially when there are so many homeless pets who don't have these problems.

5. Questions

A shelter should interview potential adoptors. They should be discriminating about where the pets end up. Do not be put off by questions that are asked of you -- instead, encourage it. It's a good sign. It means they care!

I left the expo that day, and remain currently puppy-less. But it's fine. Hopefully those of us with soft hearts will keep our standards high, for the greater good.