Origins

Back in April of 2010, my childhood golden retriever, Ginger, had passed away less than a month before (veterinary euthanizing, died in my arms) and I was devastated. One of the pups from Ginger's second litter whom we kept, Sugar, was still with us, but it was evident that she was fading fast with the loss of her mother and lifelong companion.

I was in college at the time, living in San Luis Obispo, CA going to the local state college, Cal Poly. I was living in a house on the southwest side of town with three guys whom I had met at varying times though my college career: Mike M, whom I met freshman year of college, Kamran, who moved in with us our second year off campus, and Mike B, who had just moved in with us at the beginning of the current academic year.

Kamran and I were bored on a random Sunday and decided to go out and do something. It was about lunch time and we decided to head over to Costco, which was just around the corner from our house, to do some grocery shopping and get some lunch from the food court. Pulling into the parking lot, we noticed an old beige-tan Volvo station wagon with a crowd of people gathered around the open back. A sign in the window of the car read: "Puppies for sale." We talked a little about it but moved on and headed into the store. We just about forgot about the puppies by the time we got into the car to leave, but as we came close to the car again, we noticed the crowd had diminished, and there was a parking space right next to the Volvo.

We pulled into the spot and walked over to the car. Inside were three adorable black lab puppies. Two were at the tailgate up against the makeshift boundary jumping as if begging us to pick them. The third was back in a corner of the cargo area curled up seemingly indifferent to our presence.I asked the owners how much, and they tell me $500, and that the dogs are papered, and pure bred. Kam and I stayed for a while, playing with the dogs, as I recounted stories of my goldens to the owners. I explained that I was finishing up my last year of college and I could really only afford $150 for a dog if I were to be able to afford food and proper care for it for the remainder of my schooling. They responded that this, of course, was too little, although they would love to see the dogs go to a good home.

In the midst of our conversation, the breeders had told me that they were in the process of moving, and had two weeks until they had to pick up and go, and that the puppies were reduced in price to $500 from $1000 because they needed to sell them before moving. I explained that I appreciated their situation, but that I couldn't afford to pay that much. I reluctantly handed  the puppy back and left my phone number with the breeders, asking that if they had any trouble getting rid of all the puppies before they had to move, I would purchase one for $150, thinking there was no chance in Hell that I would ever get a call. Kam and I headed home, talking the whole way about how awesome it would be to have a dog.

About four hours passed and we had forgotten all about the puppies. Suddenly, my phone started ringing; the number was not someone I knew. I answered, expecting a wrong number. On the other end of the phone line is the breeder. She had talked with her husband, and they really liked my stories about our dogs growing up and wanted one of the puppies to go to me knowing I would provide a good home. They agreed that meeting my budget restrictions would be acceptable to make this happen. My first thought: Shit. I never expected a call back, let along the same day. I asked if I could give them a call right back, and then yelled for Kamran.

We got so worked up talking about the puppy, we ended up calling both Mikes and asking each how they would feel about us bringing home a puppy. They both agreed that it would be okay as long as they didn't have to do any work . Excited and in the moment, we called the breeder back and accept the puppy. The $150 figure we were given was just too good to pass up for a pure bred papered puppy. We rushed over to the park in Avila, where the breeders had moved to to try to entice children (and thereby their parents), and approached the breeder.

Our choice in puppy seemed crucial. All three were still available. In the back of my mind, I remembered my parents telling stories about their dog Rindy, and my aunt's dog, Alta, and how they had been the exact same personality as the day the saw it in the litter. Knowing that labs are notorious balls of energy, I picked out the indifferent sleeping one, thinking I would have less energy to contend with than the others, and less separation anxiety; I would find out later Levi was the exception to this rule. I payed, took care of the paperwork, and left with my new puppy. Things were difficult, as I had to keep him a secret from our landlords the last two months of college, and train him, feed him, and clean up after him, all while maintaining my grades. I managed to pull it off though, and with some good memories along the way. Levi is now almost 3 years old, and I couldn't be happier with the decisions of that day.

Levi stories to follow...