Bloodlines

into Sally Brand’s on his way to jail—after all, they were both in Rhode Island—and now bore on his back, chest, or upper arm the perfect likeness of his pet chihuahua, the devoted companion that at this very moment, right here in Massachusetts... Bonnie, my editor at Dog’s Life, just can’t resist a story about any dog who’s pining away for anyone or anything. Just on the off chance, I made a note to ask Sally Brand.
    So I was working, right? I mean, this is what writers do, you know. Being a writer is really wonderful. Most of your so-called work consists of kicking around a lot of sticky ideas until they glop onto one another, by which time you’re low on dog food and people food. So y0U scribble something on paper, hit the keyboard, sprint to the post office, and eventually get paid to keep staying home with your dogs. Well, it’s a great life.
    To return to the gummy ideas, consider the possible adhesions: local dogs, personal journeys, inner realities, families, organizations, my happy profession, and my futile effort to transplant New England pines and maples to the rich, flat agricultural acreage of porcine Walter Simms, who was, for a start, an inner reality of mine, not someone I’d actually used my resources to pursue.
    If I want to find out who’s who in reputable dogdom, I know quite a few people to ask, and I can also consult the membership lists of the Alaskan Mala-mute Club of America and lots of other clubs I’ve simply had to join. AMCA and the other national breed clubs are highly selective in admitting members. The dog magazines, though, don’t screen the breeders and kennels that advertise puppies, so their listings are no guarantee of reputability, but there are a lot of ads placed by the famous, the infamous, and the unknown.
    Then there’s the matter of disreputable dogdom, which you may be surprised to learn actually has what is in effect its own organization, namely, the United States Department of Agriculture, the branch of our government that licenses puppy mills and puppy brokers. Whoops, pardon the slip, Class A and Class B dealers. Class A dealers breed animals; Class B dealers breed and sell them. Or if you’re a sci-fi fan, maybe you aren’t surprised. Parallel universes? You don’t believe me? Write or call the USDA and ask for a copy of the booklet Animal Welfare: List of Licensed Dealers. Yes, Welfare. Ha-ha. In fairness, though, I must point out that not every USDA-licensed dealer is a puppy mill operator or broker. A few dealers maintain rabbit and ferret farms. Some breed kittens. A few have names that sound above reproach. Johns Hopkins University, for instance, is a USDA-licensed Class A dealer. So there’s no stigma, really, is there? After all, Johns Hopkins doesn’t mass-produce puppies for pet shops. Well, then why the USD A license? Research, of course, including research on laboratory animals. Rats and mice? Probably. Also, I’ve heard, Alaskan malamutes. No stigma huh?
    Now that I’ve presented an unbiased account of USDA-license holders, let me continue. I had the booklet. I just hadn’t bothered to see whether Walter Simms was listed. I hadn’t checked anything else either. I’d asked a couple of local malamute breeders, and I’d stopped there. And my family resources? If I’d phoned my father, I’d have told you, wouldn’t I? Of course I would. I hadn’t.
    So I made a big pot of tea and settled down to work. Let me summarize the results of my research. Walter Simms didn’t advertise Alaskan malamutes in Dog’s Life, Dog Fancy, or DOGworld. His name was absent from the listings of malamute breeders in the Gazette and the Malamute Quarterly. If he advertised malamutes anywhere, he didn’t include his name in the ad. No one called Walter Simms belonged to the national breed club or to any of my local clubs, either.
    In case Walter Simms belonged to some local kennel club for which I lacked a membership list, I checked with the Dog Breeders’ Referral Service. You know about that? Kennel-club-member breeders take turns having their phone numbers listed in the paper and answering calls from people about where to find Skye terriers, boxers, whippets, or whatever. February happened to be Ray Metcalf’s month. You know Ray and Lynne? They raise Clumber spaniels. We train together. Anyway, Walter Simms wasn’t listed, and Ray had never heard of him.
    Then I made more tea and got out the USDA booklet. If you’ve ever consulted the damn