There are better reasons to buy a house, really. I bought a house in order to get a dog.
When I moved to Hawaii I sold one house in Atlanta and began renting another one on Maui. I knew when I signed the lease that they didn't allow pets of any kind (there must have been a proviso in the rental agreement however, that allowed for 5000 geckos to live under my porch - but that's another story). I figured once I moved in I'd approach the landlord and, seeing as I was such a responsible pay the rent on-time kinda tenant, I was sure they'd let me have a pet.
But no. The landlords were the kind of heartless, animal-of-any-kind hating type of people. They were afraid of fleas. As if any dog of mine would have the nerve to have fleas. After much cajoling and even coercing, they would not relent. So no dog for me at 158 Hiwalani Place - no way, no how.
When my lease was up for renewal I opted to give notice and went on a house hunt. I was living alone on an island in the middle of the Pacific, 5,000 miles from my closest family and without hardly any friends. I wanted a dog DAMMIT and if I had to buy a house to get a dog, then that's what I was going to do.
I closed on my little Haiku plantation house on a Thursday and on Friday, before I was completely unpacked and moved in, I was at the Maui Humane Society searching for a little dog to adopt, to help make my house a home. The pound was jammed packed with dogs and I peeked into each pen for a little puppy to take home, thoroughly expecting a large selection to choose from. But not on that day. On that Friday they only had large dogs available and I was hell bent that I was bringing home a dog, and with nary a second thought I switched my plan to bring home a dog that day, regardless of size or breed.
I turned a corner and there he was - a beautiful brown dog, a Lab or? He was in a pen with his partner in crime. They had been caught wandering up-country, not the first time the dynamic duo escaped their owner's yard, but it was the last time the Humane Society would return the dogs to this house of neglect. The two dogs had been at the pound for about a month when I happened upon them.
I stopped for a moment outside their pen and spoke to them briefly. One came right up to the fence, sniffing my outstretched hands (looking for treats no doubt) and quietly wagging his tail. I was still of the mind that I wanted a small dog, so I moved on. But as I toured the rest of the pens I could sense someone watching me. Turning around, it was the brown dog...following me with his big golden eyes. Every step I took, he watched. Every dog I spoke to, he was looking on, as if he were saying: I've picked you and as soon as you've finished window shopping you'll come back here and take me right home where I belong.
I have often said over the 9 years since that fateful day that it was his eyes that got me. He followed me with his eyes, imploring me to come back to him, to take him home, to give him a better life. Every day I look into those soulful eyes and think there was more than a dog rescued that day...
