Misha was thrilled to tears. Poppa had finally agreed the time was right to add a new family member in the form of a puppy!! Now the question remained what type of puppy and where to get it?

Sunday morning, Poppa opened up the newspaper to the want ads. The previous Saturday night had been spent on the Internet, reading about various breeds of dogs. Poppa had narrowed their search down to three different breeds he thought would fit into the Byers household, and now he was searching for them in the paper. He jotted down several phone numbers, but since it was early in the morning, he decided to take the family on their normal Sunday shopping trip before making the calls later in the afternoon. So, just before lunch, the Byers headed for the local shopping mall.

As they passed the Pet Palace, Misha suddenly tugged Poppa’s arm. "Look, look!! One of the pups in the cage is on our list!" he shrieked. "Let’s go in and see it!!" Poppa reluctantly acquiesced, and the three of them entered the store. There along one wall was a bank of glass-fronted cages containing pups of all ages, colours and sizes, all either barking frantically or scrunched into a corner starting fearfully out at the world. They were all, as puppies tended to be, cute, fuzzy and adorable, even the mixes. Misha zeroed in on a cage containing a pup that was mostly white with red patches of colour, a pup that was one of the scrunchers. As he tapped on the glass, ignoring the signs asking patrons not to do so, the pup turned his head away from Misha and scrunched harder into the corner. Poppa read the information printed on the card attached to the cage, and told Misha that no, this wasn’t a Springer Spaniel, it was an Australian Shepherd. Misha protested that it didn’t matter, it LOOKED like a Springer Spaniel and look, he’s so scared and lonely, and we should save him and take him home. Poppa looked at the price on the pup; he seemed a lot more expensive than those in the paper did this morning. Maybe it was because he was a better dog?

Poppa caught the eye of one of the store employees, and the girl brought the pup out front for Misha to hold. The pup struggled and fought the whole time Misha was trying to pet him, while Poppa asked a few questions of the girl. No, she wasn’t familiar with this breed, but had heard they were good with kids. He was a "rare breed" and a "rare colour"; that was what made his price so high. She said she’d heard they were very smart and that they didn’t get very big. This pup was 6 weeks old and had just arrived from a "farm" in Missouri. She then found a book that had a short paragraph on the Australian Shepherd, and her and Poppa read it out loud for Misha and Momma’s benefit. "Good with children, needs exercise, intelligent and easy to train. Medium size, medium coat, little grooming needed. May chase or nip bicyclists and joggers if not trained properly." The pup had his first set of shots; the salesgirl explained that he’d need at least one maybe two more shots over the next week or so, she wasn’t sure what the schedule was. Misha’s pleading eyes met Poppas. "He’s so scared and lonely Poppa, can’t we take him home? I PROMISE to take good care of him all by myself!" Pretty heady words coming from a 9 year old boy, a boy who spent most of his spare time playing soccer and Little League and Pee Wee Football and taking piano lessons. Poppa and Momma conferred while Misha struggled to hold the terrified pup still, cooing to him all the while. He put his face near the pup’s nose, trying to reassure him and the pup promptly nipped him painfully on the lip. Misha yelped, then quickly hid his face as his parents looked over at him. They returned to talking about it, now with the store manager helping them decide.

Poppa walked over with a smile on his face. "Have you given him a name yet, Misha?" he asked. A huge grin split Misha’s face, and Poppa immediately asked him about the redness and swelling of his lip. "Oh, I bit it accidentally," Misha replied, feeling guilty at this "little" lie. "And I think I’ll call him Zorro because of his red mask" he said. Momma was at the register paying for Zorro and a huge assortment of bowls, food, beds, leashes and toys that the salesgirl and the manager had piled on the counter. Misha was so happy, and hugged Zorro even tighter. Zorro protested loudly and tried to nip him again, but Misha learned his lesson the first time. Misha was already planning Zorro’s introduction to the neighbourhood dogs, kids and cats, imagining how proudly Zorro would strut around for him, making friends with all….

On his first visit to the vet the next day, Zorro bit the technician trying gently to hold him still for the vet to examine, then tried as hard as he could to bite the vet too. "Please be careful, he’s very scared," Misha pleaded. The vet reassured Misha that he was being as careful as possible, but that Zorro needed to learn to trust the vet and allow him to handle and examine him. After the exam, the vet asked Momma to come into his office for a few minutes. "Why don’t you take Zorro outside and see if he needs to go to the bathroom?" the vet suggested to Misha.

In his office, the vet was very straightforward with Momma. "First off, Mrs. Byers, this pup is much too young to be away from his mother and littermates. I would guess he left them at 4-5 weeks of age after being force-weaned to facilitate getting him into a store while he was still at that very appealing ‘cute and fluffy’ stage. This will cause him no end of problems in life, as he has no social skills with either dogs or people. He came from what we call a ‘puppy mill’, that is, a place where the sole intent is to raise as many puppies as possible for the pet store trade. No concern about breeding soundness or genetic and temperamental health is evident at these operations. The dogs are bred the first time they possibly can and then bred every time they can until they can no longer produce puppies. At that point, they go to auction or are euthanized, not always humanely. Their living conditions, at least at the non-USDA-licensed facilities, is usually pathetic-filthy, and crowded, disease-ridden. As little human attention as possible is lavished on the dogs in puppy mills; that would cut into the profit margin which is exceedingly thin. Most puppy mills get around $50-$120 per pup, so you can imagine how little extra they wish to spend on any amenities." "Oh, but Zorro was $800 at the store!! He is a rare breed and a rare colour also!" Momma protested. "I’m sure you understand Mrs. Byers, that pet stores have a lot of overhead to contend with. And chances are, Zorro went through a ‘puppy broker’ before he got there. A broker buys puppies from all over and ships them out to the stores as per their orders. A pet store pays not only the price the broker paid for the puppy but also a ‘commission’ of sorts to the broker, which raises the price. Then, when the puppy arrives at the store, the price is upped even more to cover the cost of housing and feeding the pup until it’s sold. Plus, like I said, overhead figures in the big picture." "But he IS a rare breed in a rare colour-surely that makes him more valuable! Mr. Byers is thinking of finding a girl Australian Shepherd so that Zorro and her could have puppies and maybe we could make a little extra money, you know, for Misha’s college fund, vacations, Christmas, things like that. And, it would be good for Misha to see the ‘birds and bees’ first hand, don’t you think?" Momma said. The vet shook his head. "Mrs. Byers, there is a lot more to breeding good dogs than simply putting a boy and a girl dog together. First off, Zorro isn’t a rare colour, or even really a rare breed. Zorro is what is called a ‘pinto’ Australian Shepherd, a mis-mark really. My first recommendation is to have him neutered; he’s not a quality specimen of the breed at all and he has some problems too, which I’ll go into detail with you in a moment. I have a very reputable breeder of Australian Shepherds as one of my best clients; I’m going to give you her phone number and you should go talk to her. Zorro has health and temperament problems that we need to discuss more; she’ll talk to you about the breed and about breeding." "Health problems? How could that be!" Momma protested. "The pet store guaranteed him to be in perfect health!" "That may be so Mrs. Byers, but they were really only guaranteeing that he was free from illnesses such as parvo, distemper and other common diseases of puppyhood as required by state law. I would like to take X-rays of his hips tomorrow; I have a suspicion that he may have what is called hip dysplasia. Just watching him hop around and seeing how much trouble he has getting up from a sitting or lying position leaves me a bit concerned. And, he’s going to have a very bad bite-he is going to end up with what we call a ‘parrot mouth’, meaning his lower jaw isn’t going to grow much more, so that when he matures, his upper jaw is going to be very far in front of it, giving him a tremendous overbite, just like in children. I’m going to pull his lower canines, the pointy teeth, on the bottom jaw, when we have him anesthetized tomorrow for the hip X-rays; this doesn’t always help, but it can alleviate the possibility of Zorro poking holes in the roof of his mouth. I’ll also refer you to the local canine dentist who may be able to help him a bit more." "Oh my, Mr. Byers is going to be quite unhappy; this is costing us a lot more than we thought it was going to!" moaned Momma. Suddenly, there was a major commotion in the waiting room. The vet went out to see what was going on, and came back in to get Momma. Misha and Zorro were in a corner with one of the techs, who was wiping Misha’s face with a damp towel. Zorro was cowering and straining at his leash, trying to be somewhere else. "MISHA!!" Momma shrieked, "what happened!!" The tech turned with the bloody towel in her hand and Momma saw the bite marks just below Misha’s eye. The vet was grim but reassuring to Misha and Momma. Sure, it was an accident. Misha had bent over Zorro to pet another dog and Zorro bit him. Zorro needed some behavioural help, and the vet knew a woman who specialized in such things. He’d give Momma that number too. In the meantime, Zorro was scheduled for his hip X-rays and teeth extractions the following morning. The receptionist had called the local Aussie breeder who asked that Momma, Misha and Zorro come by at their convenience as soon as possible, she’d be more than happy to talk with them and help them out in any way with Zorro. Oh and here’s the bill for today’s visit. Momma, visibly shaken, pulled out her checkbook again and sighed….

At the breeder’s home, the size and amount of coat on those Aussies impressed Momma. She was also impressed by their behaviour-calm, observant but not all over everyone licking and carrying on. They barked initially when Momma rang the bell, but quieted instantly upon command of the breeder. The house was clean and had no ‘doggy’ smell to it. The yard was well maintained with no sign of being shredded by the 4 Aussies in residence, ranging in age from 16 months to 9 years. There was no ‘poops’ as Misha called them evident. In the house, the oldest Aussie, a lovely blue merle female the breeder called her ‘foundation bitch’ immediately disciplined Zorro for the transgression of jumping at her face uninvited. Momma was aghast at the piteous screaming and crying Zorro broke out with. The breeder assured her that the bitch was simply setting limits and enforcing ‘doggy manners’ on an unmannerly pup and that she wasn’t hurting Zorro at all. She then explained to Momma that because Zorro was taken from his mom and littermates at such an early age, he’d never learned his doggy manners nor had the intense socialization needed to function in society both canine and human. And, because he’d had no real nurturing and disciplining human contact either, he’d need a crash course in becoming a ‘pack member’ and not the ‘pack leader’. She explained what Aussies were really all about, how much care was needed to maintain their coats, how much they shed both seasonally and throughout the year, how much exercise and training was required, and above all, how committed their owners needed to be to maintain a level temperament and good behaviour both around the house and in public. Since the Byers home didn’t have a fenced yard, she suggested both securely fencing it and including a lockable gate or building a secure dog run for Zorro. She showed Momma her own dog run, used exclusively for the pups when they were old enough to be outside. She explained it protected the pups from harm and also the yard and all in it from the pups! The breeder took her oldest bitch outside in the front yard to show Momma some basic and advanced obedience. She said that this bitch had a ‘UDX’ title which stood for ‘Utility Dog Excellent’, the highest level of regular competitive obedience. In that level, she was trained to do many amazing things, like retrieve a dumbbell made of leather from a group of other dumbbells made of leather and aluminum simply because the owner had touched just that one dumbbell. She also did things on silent hand signal commands from her owner. Misha was most impressed. They then watched a video of the dogs doing something called ‘agility’, a game where the dog and owner ran around a big open area full of tunnels and ramps and jumps as fast as they could. Misha thought that just looked like so much fun for him and Zorro. Then, they saw the dogs working cattle; Momma was quite concerned because the cattle were kicking and stomping at the dogs and the dogs in turn were ‘gripping’ the cattle on the face or the leg. The breeder also showed pictures of the dogs at the local hospital, in bed with broken and sick kids, doing therapy work. Momma looked at Misha’s cheek with the ugly wounds and wondered if Zorro would ever be like these Aussies.

Afterwards, the breeder spent some time with Zorro. She said that he was ‘fear aggressive’ and that the lady the vet had recommended could help them out. She also told Momma it wasn’t going to be easy, and then recommended yet another vet in town who did a special eye exam called a ‘CERF’ exam. This exam would tell them if Zorro had any congenital or inherited eye problems that could cause blindness. She said that she thought she saw something in one eye called a ‘coloboma’, and that he seemed extremely photophobic or light sensitive, which could mean deeper problems. Momma sighed. Finally, she asked the breeder to be honest with her. Why did Zorro have all these problems?

The breeder replied that it was a long story. She told Momma that some people saw dollar signs in puppies. Those people, whether or not licensed by the USDA (United States Department of Agriculture), had no cares about the genetics of the breeds they produced. All they were concerned with was production numbers. She then told Momma how the family SHOULD have gone looking for a pup. The paper wasn’t the best place to begin with; many of the advertisers were simply backyard breeders, meaning people who had two dogs of (hopefully) the same breed, papered or not, and made puppies. They did no research, didn’t prove their dogs good specimens of the breed as per something called a ‘breed standard’, did no health checks, may not even know who their dog’s parents were and couldn’t care less about what happened to the pups after the cheques cleared. They usually didn’t return calls from puppy buyers, required no spay/neuter contracts and wouldn’t even consider taking a pup back for any reason after the sale. The puppy mills were much worse; the buyer has absolutely NO recourse from a puppy mill, and the pet stores that sold the produce of the mills were of little help either.

The Internet, the breeder said, could be both a blessing and a bane for the puppy buyer. It afforded buyers a chance to scrutinize a breeder’s dogs, kennel and philosophy; yet at the same time, there was no guarantee the breeder wasn’t lying through his/her teeth about everything. There was also a mound of conflicting advice and descriptions of breeds for the unwary to wallow in, further clouding the issue. The breeder said that visiting breeder’s homes, talking to them over the phone and going to shows, trials and ‘dog fairs’ or ‘pet fairs’ were all good places to start. Asking local vets for recommendations was a solid way to find a breeder; most vets know how good a breeder is simply by the way they care for their dogs. Locating the local breed club or even the national one via the Internet is a step in the right direction too. And most breed clubs had rescue organizations that quite literally rescued unwanted dogs of their breed and placed them in new homes.

The breeder further gave Momma some idea of what to look for when meeting a breeder. The cleanliness of the house and yard or kennel was the absolute first and foremost clue. Dirty dogs in dirty houses and yards without excuse meant to leave without even getting out of the car. Breeders that required several days notice before a visit for no good reason were to be avoided also; that could mean a major cleaning operation was needed an/or certain dogs needed to be removed before the visit. Breeders that were close-mouthed about their dog’s ancestry or accomplishments or stated their dogs were ‘perfect’ meant you didn’t want to get involved. Breeders who didn’t have any idea of what kind of health problems were in the breed or their lines or who said there were no problems were either ignorant or just plain deceitful and no one to get a dog from.

The breeder told Momma she should feel comfortable with the breeder and his/her dogs. The breeder should be honest and forthright about the dogs, their ancestors, the line and any problems that had occurred, both genetic and in temperament. He/she should provide a list of references including past puppy buyers, vets, people in the breed and others. He/she should advise the buyer to spend time with as many relatives of the two dogs being bred together as possible, as that was a very good indication of what the pups would be like at maturity or even before. The dogs should be well mannered, clean and well groomed and present a pleasing picture that made it clear as to what breed they were. A Papillon should look like a Papillon and a Great Dane should look like a Great Dane, and there should be no question in the buyers’ mind that the dog was indeed a Papillon or a Great Dane. The breeder should require a list of references and also a home visit to insure that his/her pups would be going to an appropriate home. There should be written contracts and guarantees about health, along with certification that the parent’s have had all health clearances done prior to breeding. For pet puppies, puppies that are not to be used for breeding, the breeder should either require proof of altering before papers are issued or the breeder may elect to spay/neuter the pups at 7-10 weeks of age before the pup goes home. The breeder should ask direct questions and the buyer should answer honestly and without hesitation. The breeder will expect the buyer to also ask plenty of questions and to have a good knowledge of the breed and it’s requirements. The breeder should be willing to answer any questions or concerns at any time during the dog’s life and most importantly, be willing to take back or help place the dog in a new, approved home at any time during it’s lifetime for whatever reason.

At this point, Momma burst into tears. "Oh no!" she wailed!! "Mr. Byers isn’t going to be very happy about this! We made some awful mistakes! What can we do?" she asked tearfully. The breeder replied that all was not lost, that with careful training and socializing Zorro could become a treasured family member. They should neuter him immediately, start puppy kindergarten and work with the behaviourist as soon as possible. Should he turn out to have eye problems as well as hip dysplasia, there was a chance that they could go after the pet store under the state’s puppy ‘Lemon Law’ and possibly offset some of their medical bills, which could end up being substantial. And, last but not least, the breeder suggested that the Byers be honest about Zorro with anyone who might be considering buying a puppy from a pet store. The cost of that ‘doggy in the window’ was far, far more than the price slip on his cage. Knowledge is power; it is also essential to the health, happiness and quality of life for any puppy. Only by educating the public on the dangers and heartbreak of that ‘doggy in the window’ can the tide be slowly but surely turned. ‘Rescuing’ a pet store puppy isn’t that at all. It’s just reinforcement for the producers to continue to pump out more and more of these pathetic little bundles of fur. Just don’t do it. And educate people who might be considering the purchase of a pet store puppy. The news stories that surface from time to time about the shutting down of yet another horrible puppy mill is just the tip of the iceberg; only a small percentage of these grim production facilities ever get noticed. The USDA has too few inspectors in proportion to the number of licensed puppy mills they need to inspect and unless they are tipped off, chances are good a poorly run puppy mill can operate far longer than they should be able to before being caught. Don’t contribute to the problem; getting a puppy is much the same as having or adopting a child. It is a commitment for the life of that puppy or child, and doing it right the first time will make life much easier and happier for all involved.

Buy with your mind as well as your heart. An intelligent decision will benefit all.