Pierre, Mr. P, P-Butt, The King of Pomerania. He has so many names but no matter what we call him… he’s my baby. My i-m-m-e-n-s-e-l-y spoiled baby. I have no shame where Pierre is concerned.
Typically Pomeranian’s weigh around 7 to 10 pounds, but they’re descended from big sled dogs. They used to weigh as much as 20 to 30 pounds before being bred down in size by Queen Victoria of England.
Pierre came to us 10 years ago as a rescue. He and I were meant to be. When you see us together, somewhere in the background is that song from The Courtship of Eddies Father. You know, “Let me tell you about my best friend. He’s a one boy, a cuddly toy, my up, my down, my pride and joy”. Thank you Harry Nilsson. You get us. And while I’m at it…thank you Bill Bixby, my childhood crush (shhhh don’t tell Alejandro Rey).
There I was minding my own business, having just volunteered my time at our local animal shelter to help with grooming. I had taken the required class. I had the pleasure of meeting the director of the shelter. She and I had a great conversation. Mr. Bluejeans and I had four dogs at the time and she told me to “Watch out…it’s easy to adopt another”. I said “Oh no! At this point all I want is a Pomeranian”. She went on to say that purebred dogs such as Poms or Shepard’s or what have you, are a rarity in their shelter.
I felt relieved. Phew. I was safe. Oh, the innocence.
Or was I?
No. No, I was not. You see, Mr. Pierre had other ideas.
I showed up to the shelter the following week toting along my grooming tools and an excitement about helping all those cute furbabies. As I walked in I said “Hi, I’m Niki Dee and I’m here to groom some of your dogs”. The receptionist said “Oh, sure! We just received in a………….. POMERANIAN”. I was SURE I heard wrong.
No, this can’t be. I’m sure it’s a mixed breed and not a purebred. Now before you think I’m a dog snob, remember that I already had FOUR dogs at this time. IF I were to ever have another dog it was only going to be a Pom. Seems I was going to have another dog. Let me say here that I tried. I tried SO hard not to bring him home. I groomed him and spent another three hours walking him, petting him, trying desperately to find a reason not to bring him home. I had a fabulous idea. Whipping out my phone, I snapped a picture and sent it to Mr. Bluejeans. It was captioned “what do you think”?
The reply? “What do I think about what”? That Mr. Bluejeans can be cagey. I furiously typed: This little guy. He’s so scared and he’s my dream dog. The text back was: “Let’s talk”.
What does any dog loving Pom obsessed person do? Ask the shelter if they can bring the little guy home. “Sure” I was told. “Keep him for a week”. OK.
So I pull up in the driveway and Mr. Bluejeans was talking to our good friend Jodi. With a giant smile on my face I said “Look who’s here”. Jodi looked at Mr. Bluejeans and decided it was time to scoot. Blindsided by Pierres good looks I never noticed the look on my adoring partners face. My guess was Jodi noticed. I pointed out that he never said NOT to bring Pierre home. It took all of seconds for Mr. Bluejeans to turn to the Pom-side. He was just as smitten as I was! Phew.
A little background: Pierre was found in the Daniel Boone forest. Alone. I can’t help thinking he was left there. Who wouldn’t call and leave a message with the park rangers about their pet missing?!! The lady who found him called the park and was told no one reported a missing dog. Pierre has epilepsy and his rescuer decided she didn’t want to maintain an animal with his issues. Thank Goodness! She brought him to the shelter and the rest is history…
That was ten years ago and we are just as in love with Mr. P today as we were from day one. He makes me smile daily. He’s around 14-16 years old now. I figure he has at least another 100 years to go. Ok, so that’s not realistic but he is my love and thoughts of him not being in our life are not humored. He’ll be the first 300 year old dog.
Oh the innocence.
Have you adopted a rescue? Tell us about it!