Breeders Aren't Everything

In October of 2018-- almost two years before we got our first official rescue dog in the White House-- a three month old puppy named Thor was languishing in the sick ward of a city shelter in Houston, TX.

When I went by the shelter on the 22nd, it was with the idea that I would be walking out of that shelter with a proper German Shepherd Dog who would be the dog I had always wanted. Even if technically that dog would only be a foster. I even had a dog in mind and had bee-lined toward him the moment I walked through the door. Unfortunately for my plans that day, I had my mom with me as well (she had the car), and she was convinced that we were just getting a dog to foster. She also had it firmly in mind that because my beloved cat had died around this time the preceding year, what I needed instead of a four- or five-year old dog was a puppy.

For myself, I had actually wanted an older dog. Someone to be a sedate companion for my then-twelve-year old remaining cat and whom I could take on walks with me around the neighborhood. I would have been quite content with a senior dog of my breed of choice, or even just an adult dog. But working with other people's dogs for years had completely turned me off of puppies (unless they were of certain breeds I have a great love for). Puppies were messy, untrained, and extremely aggravating. I had very little patience for them.

But as soon as we had walked through the door and before I could introduce my own choice of (foster) dog, my mom had spotted a puppy on whom she became immediately sold. This puppy was, of course (to use his shelter name) Thor-- a little black-and-white fellow still with floppy ears and being jumped all over and put-upon by his puppy companion. He seemed sweet and not too rowdy or too withdrawn-- all-in-all a very nice puppy. But not the dog I had wanted, and so I remained wary.

However my mom had the car, and the driver's license, and she was absolutely convinced that I should get a puppy and refused to even look at the dog I'd been eyeing. So it was against my better judgment that when we walked out of the shelter it was with a little mix breed puppy (the shelter said that he was a German Shepherd/Lab mix, which only made it marginally better), and I was preparing for hellish times ahead until he was well enough to find a permanent home.

Little did I know then that that little puppy would soon become my constant companion and the dog I wished other dogs would be more like.

As soon as we got him home, he grabbed some toys that I had laying around and trounced off with them to the mat by the front door, quickly settling down and creating a little hoard for himself. It was a bit presumptuous of him, but endearing all the same, and we were all charmed by how quickly he had made himself at home. The innocent assumption made by this 'just-a-foster' puppy that he had come to his forever home was definitely what did it. Even if we weren't aware at the time that he was going to be staying with us forever, we did determine that he should never again see the inside of a shelter, and would instead by going straight from our home to his real forever home. Boy were we stupid.

Even though this puppy (whom I very quickly renamed Elliot as Thor is such a common name for dogs) was picked out by my mother, he would be living with me and be mostly my responsibility. I suppose it could be said that I was a little resentful of that fact at first, because that meant that to me would fall all the responsibility of having a puppy: house-training, regular training, cleaning up messes, chewing on everything, the list goes on. And I had wanted an older dog who had already moved past the puppy stage and would fit into my life a bit better.

It didn't help that my mom sometimes complained about him and some of the things he did, though I did take those opportunities to remind her that this is what puppies do and those were the reasons why I hadn't wanted one. It also didn't help that I wound up having to pass on an opportunity to get a dog whom I had known for years and really love due to the fact that I now had Elliot, but that wasn't really his fault. Whatever my initial misgivings, I had him now, and it was my responsibility to shape him into a well turned out dog, as opposed to some of the true embarrassments I had seen other dogs become.

So with that in mind, and fore-armed with all the knowledge that working with dogs for six years could provide me (also YouTube training videos), I set out to train this puppy and turn him into someone respectable. And I will say that, for all his habits and puppyish ways, he is really a very smart dog and picks up on things quickly. He had the basics down in no time flat-- even impulse control came fairly easy to him (though we did have to work on that quite a bit). But where he really excelled was at tricks, and we had a lot of fun together learning those. Once he'd gotten over his initial sniffles and I'd had him for long enough, I started taking him everywhere (and I do mean everywhere) with me and he proved himself to be a remarkable companion in all the ways. There are still some hiccups here and there (nobody is perfect) but he generally always conducts himself with restraint and aplomb, which are wonderful qualities to have in a dog.

It wasn't long before we realized that, whether we had wanted him or not, Elliot had become part of the family and we were never going to give him up. However at this point he was still just a foster, so the next step was to go down to the shelter and make it official.

I hadn't actually had him added to my lease at that point (the cats weren't on there either but they had been grandfathered in). I also wasn't sure if he met the requirements that my current landlord had for my apartment, so my mom offered to put her name and address on the paperwork and become the official adopter. Which would have worked, except for the fact that earlier that year she had been put in a position where she had had to surrender a dog to the shelter, and even though she had picked him up again soon after for a no-kill rescue, because of that she had been forever blacklisted from adopting from them.

So, temporarily stymied, we twiddled our thumbs for a few months and then got my dad (who lives in an actual house) to agree to adopt Elliot for me. Even though it was a momentous day as Elliot became my first official dog, it was also really just a formality, as he had become my dog months ago and every day since when I put in full days of time and effort training, engaging, and bonding with him. The actual adoption was just one more step in a continuing journey that had begun three months prior when I first brought him home.

When I look back on it now, and when I return home from my job looking after other people's dogs (most of whom are very high-end and come from breeders) and realize how much more it is that I appreciate my own dog afterwards, I wonder whether going the breeder route is really worth it. People spend hundreds and in some cases even thousands of dollars on a pure-bred dog, and wind up with dogs that are not fully house-trained, develop a multitude of congenital conditions, and have a wide range of anxiety and behavioral problems among other things. Yes they get the breed that they want, but is it really worth it?

I spent $5 on adopting my dog. Obviously I've spent more on him since, but in the world of obtaining an animal, he's bargain basement. Sure he's a mutt and I don't know his ancestry or much of where he came from, but every time we go out somewhere everyone always comments upon how he's such a perfect dog, and the more I've seen of other people's dogs, the more I am inclined to agree. Even dogs that are my dream breed and whom I would love to have, I can now find some behavioral faults in when comparing them to Elliot.

Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of good dogs out there and I really like (even love) plenty of the ones I know and interact with, but I have also come to recognize that a lot of times handling them is far more of a hassle than it's ever been with Elliot. Maybe it's just because he's my dog and we've got a good standard of communication going. Maybe it's because of all the hours of work I put into him making an appearance. Maybe it's just him. But I can't help but wonder if I'd be happier with a dog from a breeder, or if I'd have just paid top-dollar for a dog that was mostly just going to be a problem.

Case-in-point: At around the same time I got Elliot, one of my co-workers got a pure-bred, working line German Shepherd (the exact sort of dog I would love to have). While Elliot was being calm and social and earning his good-boy brownie points, this dog (who is the same age as him) was off being wild and scared of strangers to the point that she would bite them. On the surface, a perfect dog. In reality, a liability. Granted she has plenty of qualities (mostly the high drive) that I wish Elliot had and which it is easiest to guarantee through breeding, but breeding that isn't done right can royally screw up a dog as well.

I do believe that we wind up with the pets (and most especially dogs) that are best-suited for us, but the next time you're in the market for a dog and have your heart set on a particular breed, don't discount the rescues or the shelter mutts, because even if you think you already know what you want, that may not actually be the perfect dog for you.

It might not be evident from this, but I personally have always only wanted pure-bred dogs, mostly because I want specific breeds. I don't vilify proper breeders with good standards or the people who buy from/support them, and I do understand that sometimes getting from a breeder is better for some people because they might have specific needs/uses for the dog that can only be got through specific breeding. That's okay by me, because I have some of those same wants for dogs I intend to get in the future. But as someone who has only ever had rescue animals, I understand the other side of the issue too, and everyone should be aware that, if they are just looking for a furry companion, mutts from the shelter can be every bit as good as they well-bred counterparts, and in some cases might be even better-suited for that lifestyle. Wherever you choose to get your pet(s), just be sure you get the one that's right for you!

Also don't forget to support your local shelters (kill as well as no-kill). They work really hard, rely pretty much entirely on volunteers and funding from the public, are typically overpopulated, and some city shelters might be seriously underfunded as well.