It started like this.
One day walking down Lexington Avenue I passed by a store which I usually avoid.
It displayed in its windows barking little dogs like shoes. It always upset me to see these obviously miserable dogs. They are bred by what I came to learn for profit at horrible conditions in puppy mills!.
Well that particular day post 9/11 New York City smelled of soot and despair. I was too early for an appointment and decided the store could not possibly smell worst than the streets.
I glanced around aimlessly for a while, and noticed a little black and white dog. After I noticed this small puppy with bloody paws on metal grills chasing her own tail and barking in a small cage, too narrow and tiny, a crude price tag attached, I was furious!. I had to save her.
Growing up I dragged home street cats and street dogs ( they were plenty in 70’s Istanbul) only to be told: ‘ There are people in need!. Animals don’t belong in houses, they are dangerous fleabags!’
Well that was the norm in those days. Animals were either used as guard dogs or else they were wild running around in the streets.
I was intrigued by their wildness and freedom. So much more interesting than people! Although I was a bit frightened of them I also loved their presence, waiting for me in front of our house, in front of butcher shops.
Loving a creature is no small feat to begin with and try it on a ‘sort of alien’ who needs 24 hour room service and 24 hour bathroom duty and training and learning a new woof language. But, unlike human babies they don’t grow up and leave you and end up annoying you. Betrayal, malice, meanness are unknown territory to them; they dwell only in Love and Treats. Their quiet presence is a balm, and it makes the medicine go down, as Mary Poppins sings.
And as we all know what a drug is Love and we were hooked!
