The connection that is possible between a dog and its owner
is incredible. I have never loved an
animal so much. I have a pit bull rotti
mix, named Seven, and she holds my heart.
She listens, she snuggles, she cheers me up when I’m feeling low. When I was on my way to pick her out of a
litter of puppies, I had no idea she would become so dear to me. The process of choosing her, and knowing she
would be a good dog however was obvious to me.
When looking at a litter of puppies I first look at what colors and size
they are. Then I watch how they
act. Lastly I see how they interact with
me.
The first step in picking out my puppy was choosing one I
liked the looks of. Of course all
puppies are cute. If I had the choice I would
have taken the entire batch home. I
walked into the apartment that I was buying my new baby from and saw the mess
of puppies spread out in the living room.
Most of them were just plain brown.
I wanted one that was unique. I
noticed the smallest puppy first. She
had little fat rolls on her butt. Her
face was colored in a tan mask, and her chest in a vest of the same color. Her
eyes were hazel while the others were that dog eye brown as I call it. She was only 8 weeks old, but her colors made
her look like an old woman. I instantly
drew my attention to her. The first step
was done and I moved on to the next.
The second step in choosing a puppy was watching how they
acted. The rebellious ones were pouncing
on the other puppies, and chewing on their own tails. Adorable yes, but I
assumed it would take a lot more training.
Some were more interested in people, bouncing between me and the woman who
owned them. The runty, old looking puppy
I chose sat under the couch with her face barely sticking out. She observed the other dogs. She didn’t care to partake in the playing,
but seemed content in her place.
Watching her eyes just shift back and forth and her little pink nose
twitch as she watched all the action pulled my heart strings. This had to be my puppy. So I move on to the last step of choosing my
puppy.
The last step in my process was seeing how she would
interact with me. She wasn’t much of a
social butterfly among the other puppies.
She also wasn’t one that rushed up to greet me. Yet she drew my attention in the first two
steps, so I leaned down to her level.
She glanced at me, and then went back to viewing the other pups. I beckoned her with kissy noises. “Come here baby girl. It’s okay.”
She slowly emerged from under the couch, approaching with caution. I placed my hand on her head and pet
her. She instantly showed a sign of
relief. She looked up at me as I continued
petting her. That moment pulled those
last strings, and I knew this would be my new family member.
After I finished my
process of picking Seven out, I took her home.
She rode on my lap the entire way, and a bond was formed which will last
until the very last day we will have together.
Now that she’s grown, her coloring doesn’t make her look old. She is more interactive with other dogs and
people, but doesn’t mind sitting back and observing either. She is by my side all times when she is with
me. Rather it’s fighting over space on
the couch, or taking a swim in the summer, she’s right there. I couldn’t have picked out a better dog than
my sweet Seven.
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