Victoria Lily Shaffer - Pup Culture: Stories, Tips, and the Importance of Adopting a Dog

Emily and Echo

In loving memory of Emily Callaway, a supportive friend, rescue advocate, and my dogs biggest fan. I know shes reading this book among the most adorable puppies in heaven.

As I read through the pages of my daughters first book, Im struck by the pride I feel in the work she does, how good she is at it, and how little I had to do with it. In fact, I appear to have been a force she had to outsmart before proceeding with her mission, and Im grateful that was relatively easy for her.

Certainly, as a cat manmy childhood cats name was CleoI wasnt about to teach my kids love and caring by getting them a dog. When it comes to preaching family love, the cat-man-do works alone! (Forgive me.) Yet something in then ten-year-old Victoria made her lead every family bike ride we took in the city to make a stop at the pet shop, just to visit the puppies. As she and her brother, Will, climbed joyfully into the pens with the various shih tzus and labradoodles, how could I have known that Victoria was engaging me in subtle dognitive therapy (again, your forgiveness)?

It was hard to miss how happy the kids were in the company of dogs. When the biking conversation on the way home centered on puppy-cuteness ratings, I freely participated in a noncommittal way. What I didnt count onbut was consistently confronted withwas Victorias innate nurturing sensibility. This was an ingrained predilection toward caring and protectiveness, which she showed from an early age. This was evident to me while on a camping trip with my old boss, the outdoorsy David Letterman. Victoria looked at me and instinctively realized that Jews shouldnt camp and that I needed her help. She fed me, removed my shoes, and tucked me into a sleeping bag, transforming me into, yes, a happy camper when I really needed to be one.

Imagine when this level of compassion gets applied to members of a four-legged species who want nothing more than to love and be loved. The results are combustible, and Victoria exploded into a crusader for dog rescue, a selfless rescuer herself and an expert in the emotional and physical care of dogs. This is a win-win, for her and for dogs everywhere.

How did I luck out and end up with a daughter whose internal kindness governs her goodness and who, along with my son, Will, makes me the proudest of dads? Well, it must have been because of Cathy, their mother: I married the right girl.

Paul Shaffer

One TO THE RESCUE!

THE DOGS THAT CHANGED MY LIFE

My parents didnt grow up with dogs, and they werent dog lovers.

If we ever went to someones house and they had dogs, my mom would force a half smile and brush them off her lap. My dad would chuckle through a Whoa! with the same uncomfortable hesitation he had when our family went paragliding in Wyoming. And before you accuse me of overexaggeratingI know no dog could be as frightening as looking down at your shoes dangling so many feet above the ground, but what can I say? My dad has is-shoes (hes cursed me with the need to make bad punssorry).

Every summer, my family drove to East Hampton to visit the Makrianes-Gravels. Their daughter Maysie became one of my best friends (shell also reappear later in this book). We had a yearly routineMaysie would always force me to dive into the freezing ocean with her like we were participating in a polar bear plunge. The boys, my little brother William (Will for short) and her little brother Jimmy, would play video games all day. Our parents would spend evenings chatting and drinking wine, and Liathe Makrianes-Gravels middle childas we always joked, hung out with the dogs. She already knew what Id yet to learn: dogs over humans, always and anytime.

It was during these summers with the Makrianes-Gravel family that I first started to truly enjoy and connect with dogs. During beach BBQs, their dogs would be the life of the party. Theyd run in circles, dive into the frigid ocean to fetch balls, and roll happily in the sand. You best believe those beach traditions came full circle when I drove the first dogs of my adult life, Rue and Echo, to the beach in East Hampton within days of adopting them.

Rues first trip to the beach.

Maysies dogs left an impression. I can name every dog she had since we were two years old better than I can name the presidents of the United States. I have vivid memories of us walking Spike and Molly, and I could never forget Pippa, the blind shih tzu with no teeth. Maysies mom, Anne, had taken Pippa from their neighbors once she discovered they wanted to put him down preemptively. He was the first ill dog Id ever seen. I remember thinking it was so cool that Anne had stepped in to save Pippa, even if he was disheveled and scary to look at. As I watched Anne lovingly administer all Pippas different medications to him one summer afternoon in the kitchen, I realized,