“Let’s name him Patches!”
Every child dreams of the day of getting their first dog. Well, for some it may be a cat, but for me, it was a dog. My family had talked about it for a while. We almost bought a Yorkshire Terrier but decided it wasn’t the right time. A few months later, we looked at buying a Corgi but my mom didn’t want a dog that would shed. So we dropped the issue for a while. But a spur of the moment trip to the Puppy Patch changed all that.
Opening the front door after my friend Hannah dropped me off, I ran through the house looking for my parents. “Mom, Dad! I found the perfect dog!” My words were met by initial eye rolls. But once I managed to get them and my sister to the Puppy Patch that weekend, we knew. This was our dog.
After entering the room with the overwhelming scent of dog, we turned to the left and went to the crate that held the litter of Bichon Frise puppies: two months old. When you stuck your hand in the crate, all the puppies would eagerly wag their tails, fighting to lick your hand. But upon all this excitement, I looked over and saw one dog, slightly smaller than the others, standing timid in the corner.
I asked to pick him up and once I did, I felt an instant connection. He immediately started to wag his tail and become more comfortable around me. And upon meeting my family, he showed this love to all of us. We couldn’t resist.
My parents decision to buy this puppy came from left field; but my sister and I weren’t complaining. When my dad was talking to the owner of the Puppy Patch about bringing this puppy home with us, my mom turned to my sister and I.
“What should we name him?” she asked.
“Snowball,” I immediately replied, thinking the white of his hair coat strongly represented the white of snow. Apparently this name was too obvious, however and it was met by the shaking heads. While thinking of a new name, I looked up at the store’s sign and saw the light bulb go off in my head.
“Let’s name him Patches.”