I go to work every day. I pay my rent, my bills, my taxes and my car insurance. I just signed up for AAA. I am – for all intents and purposes at least -a respectable adult. Okay, so respectable might be pushing it a bit. But, the point is that I am an adult. No ifs, ands, buts, or breaks on my car insurance, about it.
But, there are still some things that can reduce my checkbook-balancing, multiple-bill-paying, two-laptop-toting, butt right back into the ruffled mini-skirts of my middle-school-era youth. Movie musicals. Now & Then. Perfectly melted ice cream sundaes. Saturday morning cartoons. Seeing Shannon Doherty and Jennie Garth sipping milkshakes at the Peach Pit on the new incarnation of “Beverly Hills 90210.” And, of course, puppies.
One Sunday afternoon, in an effort to rouse ourselves from the lethargic funk of a long weekend spent drinking, dancing and watching “Heroes,” my best friend and I decided to get in some cardio with an impromptu shopping trip on Melrose. About halfway through our long, hot, session of retail aerobics, we stumbled across a neon oasis called The Puppy Store. Bright lights, thumping bass and rack upon rack of stylish canine couture greeted us upon our entrance.
At first, I was so distracted by the racks of stuffed puppies and their adorable accoutrements that I didn’t even notice the wall in the back of the store. There, garish in the fluorescent lights and shaking with every boom of the bass, sat a small collection of caged puppies. Their tiny cages barely containing their even-smaller frames, the poor things barked, wailed, and generally looked on plaintively as stylish shoppers tapped the glass, checked out the thousand-dollar price tags and wandered on down Melrose – leaving the poor things behind to suckle sadly at their little water bottles, paw pathetically at the walls of their cages, and generally do all the things that makes the helpless so heartbreaking.
Now don’t get me wrong – I love to shop. Purses, shoes, jewelry, clothes – if it’s on a rack, there’s a good chance I’ve probably caressed it, coveted it, and come up with a million reasons why I totally deserve to buy it. But, as much as I love to scour the racks, I hate the idea of living things displayed as merchandise. The whole thing made my stomach churn. And, in true Web 2.0 fashion, it sent me straight to Google.
There’s a wealth of information online about all things animal rights. But, I couldn’t seem to get a straight story on The Puppy Store. Of course, their website brags about how humane they are. And how their puppies are inspected by vets every week, bred by USDA certified breeders and only fed organic food and purified water. But hey, climate controlled cages are still cages. And when the store has cages that are less than a third the size of the ones at the pound, it makes you think twice.
So then, I went to Yelp. It turns out The Puppy Store gets some pretty dismal reviews – along with a history of selling really sick puppies. It is also the same place that turned Paris Hilton away a few months ago because she was trying to ‘impulse buy’ a puppy. Sure, the media applauded them. But turning Paris Hilton away in front of the flashbulbs, and then proceeding to spill the story to every tabloid that would talk to you, is as good of a publicity stunt as any – something any savvy Angeleno with business sense on bustling Melrose would certainly consider.
Still, I couldn’t find any concrete proof that yipping puppies or yelping customers added up to anything more than the bad feelings human beings get when they see something cuddly that is caged.
Things were so much simpler when I was a miniskirted middle-schooler.
I’m more confused now than when I first found the puppies crammed into the back of the bright orange Melrose storefront. I guess there are some things the Internet just can’t clear up. Like your conscience after seeing a wall full of caged canines. And here I thought Google was infallible – or at least as indestructible as Kelly Taylor and Brenda Walsh’s friendship. Thank god, or at least the CW, that at least one of those truths is still self-evident. ##