The moment the pet store employee placed a tiny, round Maltese puppy in my cupped hands, I couldn’t let her go. My fingers curled around her fragile body, causing my skin to disappear into her silky white coat. She felt soft as a stuffed animal as I stroked her hair. When the puppy’s deep brown eyes looked up at me, I instantly melted.
“She really seems to love you,” the employee said. “If you want, you could take her home with you today.”
My focus snapped back to reality as I glanced at the employee, whose name was “Kimberly,” according to her name tag. I held the puppy tightly as I shook my head. “Oh, I can’t afford a dog right now. I just stopped in to look.”
Kimberly raised her eyebrows. “Well, let me know if you change your mind.”
She walked over to a family that was only a few feet away from me. Two adults and a kid, probably no older than seven. The kid cradled a curly-haired puppy in his arms. He admired that puppy as if it was the only thing in the world, and I knew those parents wouldn’t be able to leave without the puppy unless they wanted a devastated child.
I should’ve handed my puppy back to Kimberly and exited the store as quickly as possible. I was already trying to juggle college and two part-time jobs. I didn’t have the time or money for a puppy. But against my better judgment, I looked back down at the precious fluff ball in my hands. She stared up at me with wide eyes, as if begging me to take her home.
“Sweetie,” Kimberly’s voice interrupted my thoughts. “If you’re not going to adopt that puppy, then I have to ask you to hand her back soon. Other people are waiting to meet her.”
My eyes were locked on the puppy as Kimberly spoke. If I handed the puppy back, she would get scooped up by someone else in a heartbeat. What if I never felt this connection with another dog?
“I’ll take her.” The words flew out of my mouth before I could stop them.
“Perfect, that will be $4,000.”
At the sound of that, my gaze finally snapped away from the puppy and fell onto Kimberly. “$4,000? What does that include?”
“Just the puppy. But we can set up a payment plan if the price is an issue.”
$4,000 felt like an insane amount of money to spend on a dog. I could see the supplies and vet bills adding up to that much, but why was the dog so pricey? I knew I could go to the shelter and get a dog for over ten times cheaper.
But it was so hard to be reasonable with a tiny puppy curled up in my hands.
“Where do you get these puppies from?” I asked, hoping whatever she’d say could talk me out of buying a puppy.
“We get them from small, local breeders,” Kimberly said with a smile.
I glanced down at the puppy one more time. My brain kept telling me “no,” “stop,” and “think logically.” But my heart had other opinions.
“Okay, I’ll set up a payment plan,” I said.
And just like that, Lily became my dog.
Four Years Later
As Lily trotted along on a walk with me, she suddenly picked up the pace, pulling the leash as much as her tiny body could. At first, I didn’t see anything interesting in front of us, but as we turned a corner, I almost collided with my neighbor, Sylvia.
“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry!” I said. “I don’t know what has gotten into Lily.” But as I said it, I looked down and saw that Sylvia had a new dog by her feet. In addition to her scruffy Yorkie, who had to be at least 14 years old by now, she had a white dog that looked nearly identical to Lily.
Lily was mesmerized by her clone. She sniffed the white dog while her tail circled like a propeller. The new dog didn’t have quite as much energy, but she happily sniffed Lily in return while her tail wagged.
“Did you get a new dog?” I asked. “She looks so much like Lily. Is she a Maltese?”
“She is a Maltese. She’s my foster dog, Marshmallow.”
At those words, it was impossible not to smile. “Foster dog? As in, she needs a home?”
“Yep, I just brought her home a few days ago.”
“I’ve actually been thinking about getting a new dog,” I blurted out, even though Sylvia had looked like she wanted to say more. “Now that I’ve graduated college, gotten a good job, and rented out a house, I have plenty of space and money for a second dog. And honestly, Lily seems like she could use a buddy.”
Sylvia chuckled. “Well, you should go ahead and fill out an application at the rescue. But Elise, I should warn you, Marshmallow was rescued from a puppy mill. So, she loves other dogs, but she’s often terrified of people and unfamiliar situations. Whoever adopts her will need to be extremely patient.”
I studied Marshmallow for a few moments. Even though she was wagging her tail at Lily, she flinched whenever I moved. She wouldn’t look me in the eye, and her coat had recently been shaved, so I could see patches of irritated skin underneath.
“Poor thing. I can’t believe puppy mills still exist,” I said. “Why would anyone treat a dog like that?”
“Puppy mills only exist because so many people support them unknowingly. The puppy mill she was discarded from sells a lot of their puppies to that pet store on the corner, but people still shop there because they just don’t know,” Sylvia explained.
My blood ran cold. “The store on the corner? Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.” She furrowed her brow as she studied my expression. “I can show you the data if you don’t believe me.”
“But that’s where I got Lily from.”
We were both silent for a few moments as we glanced down at Lily and Marshmallow. Both dogs were playing with each other without a care in the world.
“Elise, it’s okay. You didn’t know, and neither do most of the people who shop there. You can’t undo the past, so just take good care of Lily, and in the future, do more research if you get another dog.”
I nodded, but my heart still felt heavy. “But they told me they got the puppies from small, local breeders.”
“Think about it - why would a good breeder ship their dogs off and not want to meet the people who buy them? And if they only source from small breeders, how do they always have so many puppies?”
“Wow, you’re right.” I paused for a moment. “Do you think Marshmallow could be Lily’s mom then?”
“It’s possible. Marshmallow is six years old, so the mill had definitely started breeding her at that point.” She sighed and let her worried expression transform into a smile. “But what I can say is that she seems super comfortable around Lily. Marshmallow rarely wags her tail, but that tail is going crazy right now.”
Seeing Marshmallow play with my beloved dog gave me such a mix of emotions. On one hand, I was happy both dogs found a friend. But on the other hand, I had given $4,000 toward Marshmallow’s suffering (more than that if you counted the extra fees that came with the payment plan).
But Sylvia was right. I couldn’t undo the past. I could only do better in the future.
“Could you send me the link for the rescue’s adoption application? I’d love to adopt her if you think I’d be a good fit.”
And that’s how Marshmallow became my dog too.
Author’s Note: Puppy mills still exist because people unknowingly support them, just like Elise did in this story. If that’s the case for you, please don’t beat yourself up about it. Just make sure you’re extra cautious when getting another dog, and educate others on how to avoid bad breeders. And, if you’re able, consider adopting a puppy mill survivor. They may require more patience than the average dog, but they deserve forever homes so much after everything they’ve been through.
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