A Valentine for Zsa Zsa

FEBRUARY 01, 2015 IN TIMES LEADER

The following column about my pup Zsa Zsa was published in today's Times Leader. People have asked me how she is doing, and the answer is well. She's very funny, and I have to be vigilant and consistent, but she is a good little dog. Though the word "Amish" didn't appear in the newspaper, make no mistake that they are top offenders in the puppy mill problem. When I took ZZ to the vet's for the first time, she knew immediately from where the pup came just from the physical traits and subsequent health issues mill dogs exhibit.  We're trying to remedy the mess these people made of this innocent animal's life. Here are a few more Zsa Zsa notes:

• Nicknames: ZZ, Zsah, and Lil' Z (gansta) 
• She loves to be in the sun and will follow patches of it on the floor around the house 
• She also likes toys and bones and isn't shy about taking what she can from her cousins or buddy Toby, though she isn't aggressive or threatening. It's hysterical to see her charge into a pile of toys and drag out the biggest bone (Samoyed size) without being intimidated at all. Think ant and rubber tree plant.
• She is still trying to figure out cats (who isn't?) but, again, isn't threatening--simply curious, much to the object-cat's chagrin
• In spite of the long days spent on the front seat of a U-Haul in November, she loves to ride in the car and now pokes her head out of the pet carrier to view the world outside the window. Previously, she has curled up and slept.      

COLUMN 25

At the end of 2013 I adopted a three-year old (estimated) ball of fur with one dark eye and one blue that weighed six pounds soaking wet.  I wasn’t sure I wanted the responsibility and expense of a pet.  My parents died the month before. I had no idea where my life was going.   

It began when I called Vicki Groves of My Young and Old Fur Babies Rescue to donate some blankets, and she said, “You’ll never believe what I got this week.”  She told me about her visit to a Holmes County veterinarian’s and stopping the vet tech as he lifted this pup, with tail wagging, out of the cage to euthanize her--just another breeder in an puppy mill that out-lived her usefulness. The vet thought she was a grey and black Shih Tzu, but after Vicki bathed her four times at the clinic to get the filth and smell from her coat, it turned out the pup was apricot and white.  She didn’t bark and seemed very sweet.

“She would be a great dog for you,” Vicki concluded. “She needs a quieter home; she could lie on your lap while you write.

When I dropped off the blankets, this little bundle fell asleep on my arm. Soon after, I, with the encouragement of most of my Facebook friends, made arrangements to adopt her. I’d picked out a Chinese name that meant “little joy:” Xiao Xiao. Right away it was apparent that she was more of a “little diva,” so her name became similar sounding Zsa Zsa instead.

I won’t lie. This co-habitation has been an adjustment for both of us. Her breed is notoriously stubborn, but she obeys eventually and looks to me for direction, acknowledgement and food. Zsa Zsa also has health issues due to irresponsible breeding practices. She’s allergic to almost everything, literally, so I cook vegetables, fruits, whole grains and fish for both of us.  I also have to make logistical schedule adjustments to come home every few hours to let the pooch out of her crate.

As she’s been acclimating to a world beyond a wire cage, I’ve observed a few lessons from her. Maybe she was sent to remind me of these as I reassess my own life.

First, Zsa Zsa goes with the flow. She’s fine hanging out with her toys and blankets at home, but is always up for adventure whether going to see her “cousins”--my cousins’ Samoyeds and kitty-- or traveling across the US in a U-Haul.  She greets everyone and is curious about everything new, a little cautiously sometimes, but always giving whatever it is the benefit of the doubt. If it has popcorn, all the better.

Vicki thought the mill may have severed Zsa Zsa’s vocal chords (not unusual) because she didn’t bark while at the rescue. Thankfully she wasn’t put through that horror. Turns out, lesson two, Zsa Zsa only barks when she thinks it’s necessary. She watches, evaluating what’s happening instead of throwing herself into it with mouth running.

Third, Zsa Zsa doesn’t let her past determine her future. I can only imagine her previous miserable life, and if it had turned out that she was snappish with people or fearful of other dogs, who could blame her?  Instead, she wakes every morning facing fresh, new days, more good now than bad. She is afraid of the dark, though, so we sleep with a nightlight (and I with a mask over my eyes) to reassure Zsa Zsa and to keep me from waking to an ungodly screeching howl at 2 a.m.  But her uninhibited joy as she scampers and struts is contagious.

Fourth, Zsa Zsa tries. Even if she’s unsure or afraid, she gathers up some moxie and gives it a go. She wants to contribute to “the pack,” and I want her to have some confidence, so when she succeeds at a challenge, it’s “good girl,” “yay,” and lots of pats on the head.

Now the not-so-good news. Zsa Zsa would have died without anyone knowing of this harmless, sweet and spunky little creature of God. There were already garbage bags on the vet clinic floor containing dogs not fortunate enough to catch Vicki’s eye, and this goes on every day. Holmes County and Lancaster, Pennsylvania are known as the “puppy mill capitals of the world.”

Virtually all puppies in pet stores—around 500,000 annually--come from mills, as do puppies at flea markets. A mill owner rakes in upwards of $300,000 per year at the expense of confined, malnourished and even injured dogs that keep the puppies coming. While puppies are sent away from the mill, the mothers—like Zsa Zsa—merely exist in wire cages breeding twice a year until they can’t produce, then are euthanized by a vet or killed on the farm. Googling “puppy mill statistics” will yield links to USDA and Humane Society reports and the ABC News story on Amish puppy mills. The only way to stop the cruelty is to stop buying these puppies and putting your money in the pockets of the monsters. Instead, support the rescues that save these dogs.

Lucky us, Zsa Zsa and me, when Fate smiled.  Another year of exploring ahead, and, as Vicki predicted, Zsa Zsa is snoring on the couch beside me. Valenti can be reached at gvalenti@timesleaderonline.com.