At the end of my sophomore year of high school, my dad finally relented and said we could get a puppy. He would prefer we get a dachshund, which was fine by me. I was ecstatic. Shortly after the blessing, however, my brother and I discovered we had wildly different preferences for the puppy we would get.
He wanted a boy. I wanted a girl. He wanted smooth hair. I wanted longhaired. He wanted a standard color. I wanted something more unusual. This led to me researching and proposing to my parents that we get two puppies β one for each of us. They actually went for it, and I got to work scouring online for my puppy.
I looked at shelters, rescues, and breeders. It seemed like I looked for days upon days for literally the whole day. Still, eventually, I saw a photo of one particular puppy, and I just knew that she was meant to be mine.
I mean, look at that face. In July, she was old enough to leave her litter, and we drove to Chicago to pick her up, as she was from a breeder in Louisiana.
We drove back with her to Peoria to join Diego, the smooth-haired black and tan dachshund puppy we had gotten the week before. One interesting thing I realized once I saw her in person was that Lola had very little hair on her body β just some peach fuzz. She actually had alopecia and would never grow more hair than she already had. She had a soft, velvety texture and some fluffs on her legs and neck of the tan hair. She was quite the sight.
