BORN IN EAST L.A.

As best as we can tell, Gracie was born on or near the streets of East Los Angeles, found wandering alone by a benevolent passerby who picked her up and dropped her off at the North Central Animal Shelter. A mere two hours later, determined to find a small breed puppy to rescue, I walked in to the North Central Animal Shelter and marched toward the dog kennels.

I had been perusing every online rescue and shelter site for nearly 3 months. I had been interviewed and evaluated by the counselors at the Pasadena Humane Society. I had left work in the middle of the day, travelled across town to try to put myself on an exclusive waiting list for a dog (because you can't do it over the phone), only to have a staff member tell me they were just going to give him to the friend of an employee. I had been told a puppy was so tiny and underweight she wouldn't be available for adoption for at least 2 weeks and to call back then. Me being me, I called back 3 days later to check in... she'd already been adopted. I strongly felt it would be easier to adopt a human baby than it was to rescue a puppy.

I walked into the North Central Animal Shelter, marched toward the dog kennels, and stopped short at the window for the animal hospital. In a little kennel at eye level, looking out forlornly at me was a little brownish-red, floppy-eared, big-eyed, teeny-tiny female dachshund chihuahua.

"What's wrong with her?"

"Nothing," a security guard told me. "She had been found and dropped off two hours earlier, too tiny to be in ben pop in a regular kennel with the bigger dogs. You're the first to see her."

I was in love.

Then it happened. A shelter employee informed me they didn’t have a waiting list. They didn’t have a reserve system. They didn’t have a first come first serve mentality. They had an auction. She wouldn’t be available for another five days, in order to allow the owner to come forward and claim her. If left unclaimed, she would be available for adoption and if there was more than one person who wanted to adopt her at that time… there would be a silent auction. I was furious. Not only was there another system in play to thwart my dreams, but what a sham. I understand the animal care and control systems countrywide need funding, but putting animals up for auction not only defeats the purspose of rescuing an animal from a shelter versus buying one from a pet store... but it potentially prohibits willing and able adopters from finding the right dog match for them and their family.

A friendly worker, gave me a plan… “Show up before we open, know her serial number, get in, give it to us -- we’ll start the paperwork before anyone knows there’s more than one person interested. She’ll be yours.”

I was obsessed. I found her on the lost animals portion of the website and stared at her picture hourly for days. My mom, best friend and I made a visit, and thanks to a sneaky and friendly volunteer, the rules were broken and we each held my little love. She felt right. It felt right.

My mother and I arrived five days later, on a Sunday morning two hours before the doors opened. Probably one and a half hours before the staff arrived. We parked outside the front door with our coffee and waited. People showed up, people lined up, my mom sized them up. Mom’s reconnaissance proved nearly every single person or family was there for my little love. Still, her serial number burned on my brain, I hoped I could pull off the plan until… a security guard peeked his head out the door fifteen minutes before opening time… “How many are here for the dachshund/chihuahua puppy?” Hands shot up, my heart sank. “We’ll be holding a silent auction, meet at the front counter when the doors open.”

We did what we were told, they took us back so everyone could hold her. Never before have I simultaneously eye-balled so many people — they were holding my dog. “The auction will start in 15 minutes at the front desk, everyone should wander the kennels to see the other available dogs because not everyone is going to get this puppy.” Damn right they're not.

My mom and I went right to the front counter and waited. We planned our auction strategy. Even though that puppy was supposed to be mine, we weren't there to fund the entire shelter with our auction price. And so we set our limits and we waited. The man who had given me the plan was there behind the counter. A man ran up and said he was going to get his checkbook, he’d be right back. We waited. After 15 minutes, over the loudspeaker “The auction for the dachshund/chihuahua puppy will begin in 2 minutes.” Agony.

Watching the seconds on the clock tick by, two minutes passed and my mother, inspiration for my determination asked: “If the two minutes are up and no one is here… do we just get her?” The man with the plan asked if I had my driver’s license, I did. Checkbook man runs up… “I’m here for the auction.” The man with the plan looks at me… looks at him… looks at me. “It’s over, the dog has been adopted.”

Eighty-four dollars later, no auction, no more drama, I signed on the dotted line and my little love was mine. Better yet she had a sniffle and so instead of leaving her to be spayed, unable to pick her up until Tuesday… she came home with us that day so we could get her antibiotics. It was a good thing because ultimately it turned out she was too tiny to be spayed then… andthen we realized she wasn’t just too tiny, she was young. Too young to be walking the streets on her own. Too young to have been separated from her mother. Those early, early days before we found each other would do much to shape who she was to become… but from that day until now… through all the challenges and triumphs, I know that she and I were meant to be. And so it is.