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Que Bella!

For as long as I can remember, I have always wanted one of those little, fluffy dogs that looks more like a teddy bear than a real live animal.

Now I'm not saying that I wanted to be a dog owner like those glitzy celebrities that carry their dogs in little bags around town. Although that can be cute at times, the idea of toting a pet like that is mostly ridiculous.

I've always just wanted a dog small enough for apartment living but big enough so that I don't feel like I'm going to break her when we play.

When I acquired my "Chaweenie," I was thrilled. Sure, she was tiny enough for those little bags, but I wouldn't have subjected her to that.

Mostly she sleeps all day, burrowing beneath the blankets in search of badgers, as my fiance would say, reflecting on the dog's purpose of origin. Being an older dog, her time of being playful had seemed to pass, and I was content with that because it made her almost too easy to care for.

But I've been wanting to add a new puppy to the family. Originally I had signed up at a local shelter to foster a mixed Pomeranian. But as I knelt down to introduce myself to that dog for the first time, I noticed two others in a crate nearby.

They were adorable, fluffy dogs that looked like some kind of Maltese or Lhasa Apso, breeds I had been looking into but discovered were too expensive to buy.

"They're cockapoos mixed with an unknown breed," the shelter director said. "A lady just dropped them off about 30 minutes ago."

I couldn't believe my luck! One was black and one was beige and both had those cute teddy bear faces.

"What's the procedure to foster one of those?" I asked, unable to mask my excitement.

But the shelter director said she wouldn't foster those because she knew they would be in high demand.

I was disappointed. I had talked to my fiance about only fostering a dog. He liked the option of being able to take it back in the event the animal didn't work out. But what happened next resulted in a blur of a memory.

Before I knew it, I was filling out adoption papers for the little mixed breed and signing my name to a check to pay for the fees that would eventually go toward getting the animal "fixed."

As I put the 3-month-old pup on my lap for the drive home, I panicked.

"Jeff is going to kill me when he finds out this dog is ours to keep," I thought.

Although the adoption fees were far less than what I would have paid for a look-a-like pure breed, a sense of buyers remorse came over me.

But I was already attached. If it wasn't enough that "Bella" was so sweet and mild tempered, I felt like I had hit the lottery when I learned the puppy was already paper trained.

As soon as her little paws hit my kitchen floor, her tail began to wag excitedly. My little Chaweenie came over to introduce herself, and the two took off in a romp. Within minutes, little Bella seemed to feel pleasantly at home.

I took her into the bedroom to see Jeff where he was sleeping before he had to work the late shift at the hospital that night. I was delighted at the smile that developed on his face when he saw Bella for the first time.

Of course, I waited a day to tell him I had already paid the fees to keep her. Luck must have been shining on me those two days because he said that it was something he was glad to hear.