Pretty much everyone who I have interacted with over the past year has heard about how much I want a puppy. I moved into my own apartment and it was a bit lonely without Meatball and Juliet underfoot, so I had been keeping my eye out for puppies online and in the shelters for the better part of a year. I realllllly wanted to rescue, but I wanted a dog that would stay small because a. I live in an apartment with no yard, and b. I travel a good bit and would like to be able to travel with my pup sometimes. I soon learned that it was tough to find a small dog at a shelter. So I kept looking.
One day, my boyfriend showed me an ad that he found on craigslist- a woman was rehoming a puppy. He quickly messaged her, and then she and I switched to texting. I had tons of questions about the little guy. I was skeptical because craigslist ad, but when she sent this picture over, I knew I needed to at least meet him. She told me that over 20 people had messaged her about the dog but that we were the only ones who asked her about the dog instead of asking her to come down on the rehoming fee. (Well, clearly I was more concerned about the dog’s health / behavior than the price– which really was reasonable– so that worked out for me)
The next morning, I drove out to meet this girl. I took my parents with me, and because I didn’t want to get ahead of myself, I didn’t even take any cash to buy the dog if I did like him. I parked the car in front of her home, walked up the walkway, and then I saw this little ball of fluff sitting in the grass with the woman.
I turned to my mom and said “Mom, I need him”. I borrowed cash from my mom since I honestly hadn’t intended to take him home with me right away, and we left with the little guy.
Barrett, who formerly went by “Ralphie”, was being rehomed because another dog in the house was abusing him. The woman had Barrett for 3 weeks and her other dog just did not like him. I got him in to see a vet the next day, and he was treated for the scabs from the bites from the other dog, fleas, and worms.
In the short amount of time that I have been a dogmom to this little guy, my life has changed.
How did we come up with Barrett? Well, that name did not come instantly. In fact, he probably went almost a week without a name. We played around with dozens of ideas and kept calling him “Little Bear”. Coincidentally, people everywhere would meet him and react and say “oh, he looks like a little bear” before asking his name. Although I liked Little Bear, down the road, I didn’t want to call my 10 year old dog Little Bear, so I searched for names relating to Bear. That’s when I found Barrett. Barrett means “Bear Strength”. I read that and I thought that it was perfect. He was a little bear, and he sure was strong given what he had been through in his first few weeks of life. So Barrett he is.
I am so thankful to the woman who decided to give him up. She could have easily kept him because he’s adorable but she decided that he deserved better than being attacked by another dog regularly. She truly did the right thing and gave me a chance at having the best dog ever in my life.