Today, I look down on my lap, and I see my little one-year-old pug, taking her afternoon nap. I can remember the day we picked her up, July thirty-first, twenty seventeen. On that day, my family crammed into our van to go get the puppy that we reserved from a breeder in Iowa. The breeder’s business was called Puppy Place. When we reserved the pug, the breeder had already named her Mercedes. My mom didn’t like the name, so we were going to have to change it soon.

On this one-day trip to Iowa, we had decided to visit our pen pal (who was my mom’s former co-worker’s mom) who would send us mail every holiday. We called her Grandma Kath. She lived in Jackson Minnesota, which was near our path to Iowa. The plan was to pick up the puppy and then visit our “Grandma.”

We had to get to Iowa and back in one day, so we had to leave early. I don’t even remember if we ate breakfast! Our van had a Blu-ray player, so I tried to grab as many movies as possible to pass the five-hour drive. I also packed a pillow and a blanket, so I wouldn’t be uncomfortable. When our van left the driveway, all I could think about was returning home with a dog of my own.

* * *

We had just passed over the bridge into Minnesota, and I was already bored. I was trying to get comfortable, but I had to share the back seat of the vehicle with my twin brother, Evan. Plus, the hard plastic of the interior wasn’t what you might call a mattress. However, I was so tired from waking up so early that I didn’t care.
When I woke up, we were at the halfway mark. Around this time, all of us were getting hangry. My dad pulled into a gas station for us to take a stretch break. He told us, “We’ll stop for food just before crossing to Iowa.”

And so, we did. Our next stop was in Worthington, Minnesota, just a few miles from Iowa. We stopped at a Perkins for a real breakfast. I ate a gooey cinnamon roll and whatever scraps my brothers didn’t want. After we determined that we had had enough to eat, we loaded back up into the van. We were about one-and-a-half hours away from Hawarden, the town where the breeder lived. When we crossed over to Iowa, it finally seemed real that we were getting a dog.

If you’ve never been to Iowa before, let me tell you, it’s boring. Other than the scarce number of hills, the countryside is all flat. There are little to no large towns in this state, at least where we traveled. I felt that I was in a barren wasteland that was covered in green—miles upon miles of green.

Throughout this driving marathon, my mom had been using Google Maps to navigate while my dad drove us. Once my mom knew we were close to the breeder, she warned my dad, “Slow down so we don’t miss the house!” I don’t think my dad comprehended this, because he missed the turnoff to the road where the breeder lived. We didn’t realize it until Google told us to turn around—one mile later!

We had finally made it to the breeder’s house. My heart was racing. My pug was mere feet away from me. We knocked on the door, and a kind lady greeted us. She told us to wait inside while she retrieved our dog.

When we were inside, I was getting anxious and impatient. When I saw the lady come out of a barn with a little fur ball trotting behind her, I wanted to scream. Then, when the breeder came back into the house, all of us crowded around the pug. She was so tiny and light that I could hold her effortlessly in one hand. She had a little straight tail and two tiny bulging eyes. Her legs were short and stubby, and her paws were so small they seemed to blend in with her legs. Her fur was softer than silk, and her nose was coarse like sand. Her face was mostly black, while the rest of her coat was tan. She looked so terrified when we held her (I would have been, too).

While we were praising the puppy, the lady was explaining to us how to take care of her and how much we need to feed her, and all that jazz. Once she was done, she said that we could go if we didn’t have any questions. “Thanks for coming,” she said. “I’m a phone call away if you need help.”
My mom had brought a small eighteen-quart bin that was about a one and a quarter foot long and a foot wide for our pug to stay in. It had a pink blanket and maybe a toy so that the ride home wasn’t too harsh for her. Even though it was one of the smallest bins my mom could find, the puppy still had plenty of space to move about. We each took turns holding her, and she eventually fell asleep on my twin’s arm.
We were on our way to Jackson, Minnesota to see Grandma Kath, who worked at the technical college there. None of us had ever met her, not even my mom. We didn’t even know what she looked like. We arrived at the college and didn’t know what to do. My mom and Evan decided to go in and get Kath. While the rest of us waited, we let the puppy out to walk around.
A few minutes later, my mom and brother came back outside with Grandma Kath. I honestly didn’t know how to react. After all, she knew us from all the mail we sent back and forth to each other, but we didn’t know her. She took us inside to show us where she worked. I couldn’t believe how many photos of myself were in her office. She then had to give us a tour of the college. She showed us different parts, including cosmetology, electric, and shop areas, plus a fairly large lecturing room. We were the only ones there—it was summer, after all—so we could do what we wanted without getting interrupted.

Once we made it back to the doors where we came in, we discovered the main lobby. It wasn’t anything too special, but there was a multitude of comfortable, reclineable sofas. My brothers and I had to test each couch to see which one had the best feel.

Once we were done with the tour, Kath had invited us to eat lunch with her. We left the building and let the puppy run around. Once we were ready to hop in the van, someone shouted at us from a moving car “That’s the smallest damn dog I’ve ever seen!” We didn’t know how to answer, mostly because it was unexpected. To this day, we laugh about those words and how true they were. Our puppy was tiny, after all.

We were on our way to Pizza Ranch to eat, but we didn’t know what to do with the new puppy. I thought that I could wait outside with her, and then eat when my brother was done eating. When we arrived at the restaurant, the rest of my family and Kath went inside while I stayed outside. After some time, my dad and brother came back outside and told me that they decided to get pizza to go and eat at Kath’s place. I didn’t get to see inside the restaurant, but I guess that it was pretty busy.
Grandma Kath lived by herself in an apartment. It was fairly small, but still a reasonable size. It had two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a tiny living room. We brought the pug inside with her bin. We didn’t let her outside of the kitchen because we didn’t want her on the carpet—I’m sure you know why. We ate our pizza and chatted, and Kath gave us some puzzles that she used to send us when we were little. Grandma Kath told us stories, like how her son had braces for four years because he wouldn’t take care of them.

Before we knew it, it was getting late. By late, I mean we had to leave at five or six o’clock in order to get home at a reasonable time. After we said goodbye, we loaded up into the van and drove off towards home, with our new puppy in the back.
The drive home seemed much faster than the drive to the breeder. I had already taken at least two naps that day, but I was still tired enough to take another. I reclined my seat once again, and then drifted away.

I woke up when we were near Stillwater. I remember because it was my last opportunity to ride over the old lift bridge. Once we crossed the rusty bridge back into Wisconsin, my home only felt a mile away.

When we finally landed home, I rushed inside remembering how things were, even that morning. Then, I noticed our pug, Macey—which is what we had decided to call her—trotting outside. At that moment, I realized that my life had just changed forever. Now, I had the responsibility of caring for a living creature, and the benefit of having a new buddy.

I think that the old saying “Man’s best friend,” is one of the most factual sayings ever. Dogs have a way of bonding with humans in a way that no other creature can. I guess that they think similarly to us humans. With this bond, I think that dogs and humans have the best understanding for each other. I believe that it’s very important for someone to have someone or something that cares for them. In this case, I have my pug, and I’m very grateful for this one-day trip because it gave me the dog I love now, Macey.