Chapter 7

Chapter seven, When we walked into the animal shelter on 85th Street and Amsterdam, I heard barking. It was like a doggy glee club that was out of tune. Officer Perez was in charge of the shelter. She had lots of curly hair and looked a little like the French poodle in cage three. "How will I know which dog to pick?" I asked Officer Perez. "Oh, you'll know," she said with a smile. "The right dog will give you a sign. It just happens, like magic." We split up. Each of us took a row. Except Emily. She refused to participate. Instead, she just sat by Officer Perez's desk reading her book, How to Think Like a Reptile.

I started down the middle aisle. There were cages stacked two-high on both sides. Each cage held a lost or abandoned dog. I wondered which dog was going to give me a sign. It was definitely not the little guy in the first cage—he was completely hairless except for tiny tufts coming out of his ears. "Sorry, pal," I said as I passed by him. "Our family only has one bald guy, and that's my uncle Gary." I continued down the aisle, looking in every cage. I passed a furry little black dog with white paws and a white spot on his chest. His bottom teeth stuck out much farther than his top teeth. "You are going to need braces," I said to him.

He didn't laugh. I moved on. The dog in the next cage was a boxer. He drooled a lot. It looked like the Hudson River was coming out of his mouth. If we adopted him, he would definitely need a bib. I passed a cage with the funniest- looking little dog you've ever seen. He looked like a beige hot dog. He had a long tail but definitely came up short in the fur department. And speaking of short, his legs were so short, there was no room for muscles. I couldn't believe those stubby legs were able to hold up that long body of his.

By this time, I had looked at probably twenty dogs. There wasn't one that connected with me. I turned around and headed back the way I came. As I passed the cage with the beige hot dog again, he ran to the front of the cage and sat down. I knelt down slowly. I didn't want to scare him. Then, he put his paw through the bars of the cage and held it out to me. Without even thinking, I took his paw. Before you could say, "Nice to meet you," we were shaking hands.

"What'd I tell you?" a voice said behind me. I turned around to see Officer Perez smiling at me. "You don't pick them, they pick you." I looked at the little dog, never letting go of his paw. He was not at all what I had in mind. But I'll tell you this: When a dog gives you a sign, you have to listen. "Mom! Dad! Emily!" I hollered. "Here he is! I've found him." All three of them came running. Emily looked in the cage and started to laugh. "He looks like a corn dog without a stick!"

she hooted. "Let me take him out so you can meet him," Officer Perez said. "Before we get carried away here," my dad said, "let me remind everyone that small dogs are extremely yappy." "This little dachshund is still a puppy," Officer Perez said. "Puppies can be trained." She already had unlocked his cage and was lifting him out. She gently placed him on the floor in front of us. He was so happy to be free. I know this sounds crazy, but it really looked like he was smiling at me. "You make me smile, too," I said, kneeling down right next to him. With that, he started running in a circle, the way dogs do when they chase their tails. He went faster and faster, until you couldn't see where his head stopped and his tail began.