Buffy the inbred cocker spaniel; a cautionary tale

From the ages of about nine through 13, my Christmas list consisted of one thing; a cocker spaniel puppy. In the weeks leading up to Christmas I would daydream about waking up on Christmas morning (at 4 a.m., when my parents were still sleeping off their hangovers from our annual Chistmas eve party), running down the very short hallway from my bedroom to the living room and finding a tiny blonde cocker spaniel puppy with a big red ribbon sitting quietly under the tree.

I imagined her jumping all over me, laying puppy kisses on my face and playing for hours.

Of course, my daydreams never included the parts where I had to clean up the puppy crap and piss from the carpets while we trained her, or taking her outside to do her duty at 6:30 a.m. in 30 degree January weather. Nor did I imagine this adorable pure-bred cocker, with her curly haired
ears and her white, freckled muzzle, to be an inbred schizophrenic that would viciously attack me, my brothers and my parents at least a 300 times throughout her 16 years of life for offenses like reaching towards her food bowl, taking away things she should not be eating or simply coming near to pet her when the ornery bitch didn't feel like being bothered with us. And never did I imagine this 30 pound dog being so frightening to others that we would have to lock her in a bedroom when company came over to prevent any Cujo style attacks on innocent women and children. How could a creature so small and soft and cuddly be so evil?

Because we didn't want to believe our doggie was simply an asshole, we hypothesized that Buffy (shut up, it was the 1980's) was mentally disturbed due to inbreeding. We met Buffy's mama, but we didn't meet the papa, who could have been a son or brother of father. Being 13, I didn't think of that, and clearly it didn't cross my parents minds either.

Sure, there were plenty of good times with Sybil; some of her personalities were quite sweet, and we loved her despite her shortcomings. But, had we done our due diligence before investing in a pet, we could have avoided the traumas we endured.

Now, I'm not discouraging people from getting a dog. I am a dog lover, and encourage anyone who has the time, energy and love to devote to a dog to get one. But there is a right way and a wrong way to go about it.

I'm sure a lot of kids (and adults) are begging for a puppy right about now - current movies like Beverly Hills Chihuahua and Marley & Me ensure that. If you plan to give in, learn from my mistake and make sure you get your pup from a reputable breeder, or better yet, rescue a dog from a shelter.

Beware of pet shops like PetLand use puppy mills, where female dogs live their entire lives in cages and exist only to to pump out puppies. The breeding is substandard, with unhealthy mothers being partnered (a.k.a. raped) by their own brothers, fathers and sons to pump out puppies. The poor conditions of puppy mills also lead to ill pups. In other words, don't support pet shops that use puppy mills by buying dogs from them. Use your local shelters or ask the pet store owner to show you documentation of where the pups come from before buying. They should be able to provide it.

The American Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (ASPCA)has plenty of resources on puppy mill scams, laws protecting consumers and ways to find a puppy or adult dog.

By doing our homework, Robbi and I have the perfect dog, Bella, a bullmastiff. We bought books on the breed before deciding on her, and ended up adopting her from a local guy who introduced us to both her parents. Bella came from the mother (Cocoa)'s second and final litter, and it was clear the breeder loved his dogs. In fact, it was hard for him to let the puppies go when the time came, and he told us to bring Bella back for a visit anytime.

We felt really good about where she came from, and the good breeding is quite obvious in her demeanor, health, and her ability to be endlessly sweet. She lights up our lives every day.