Saturday, April 14, 2007

Pet the Puppies

For the past two years, I've resided in Lakeview and driven up and down Ashland a countless number of times. It seems all of Lakeview has undergone a yuppie transformation but somehow one little stretch of Ashland in between Whole Foods and expensive condos was gravely overlooked. Nestled between a Mexican restaurant and the not so popular men's boutique under the el track, lies the very intriguing "Let's Pet Puppies." It just might be my favorite name for a puppy store, ever. The outside is entrancing, decorated with multiple sheets of highlighter-colored construction paper and pictures of dogs that look like they were ripped out of a puppy calendar from 1985.





But was it even a puppy store? Can you plan puppy petting parties here, for children and adults alike? Are there people there who will pet the puppies with you, hence the "Let's"? The place was never open so who knew what kind of operations took place behind the styrofoam sheets blocking the dirty windows. Sunday evening? It's closed. Monday morning? Closed. Tuesday, around dusk? Closed. Sure they had hours of operations posted on the door, but someone actually has to turn on the lights and unlock the door for the place to be "Open." I guess the fortunate only get to pet puppies while the rest of us are at work.

Until last Saturday.

Driving by to get Gina for an errand run (super cool), I did a double take as I realized the infamous Let's Pet Puppies was finally open for business. Dare I enter this elusive operation and have all of my months of questions finally answered? Why, yes, I would. Suddenly, way too excited as I should be on a Saturday afternoon outing to Jewel, I turned onto Gina's block and honked the horn impatiently. She came outside and was locking the door and I couldn't contain my excitement. Rolling down the window, I shouted, "JINE!!!!! LET'S PET PUPPIES!!!" As soon as those words came out, I saw a lady outside, getting her mail next door. Who looked from me, back to Gina, then smiled, laughed, and went inside. Not sure why people associate with me in public. Jine was a little mortified, but nevertheless agreed to pet puppies. Dreams were about to come true for the both of us.

Up close, the outside of the store is even more unbelievable. The florescent construction paper showcases current doggy deals. Seriously? Let's save the daily deals for the vegetable stand. There is something unnerving about having a pet on "sale." The cardboard is removed from the windows when the store is open, presumably allowing passersby to spot the puppies. Signs warn, "NO STROLLERS" and "MUST USE HAND SANITIZER." Hell yeah- safety first- Pet the Puppies clearly doesn't mess around.

But, whoa, two things strike you when entering the place. One: The wooden stool holding eight bottles of hand sanitizer and paper towels. It's literally right in the pathway. Two: The odor. Um. It's best described as the worst thing I've ever smelled. Like if puppies accidentally ate Taco Bell for one week. And then pooped it out all over the place. In liquid form. Not good. But I'm not sure what scent I expected from a place titled Let's Pet Puppies.

Standing behind the counter was an interesting-looking family. Think: the Fratelli Family from the Goonies. The all just stood there and stared at us. I realize people probably just come in to their store to "Ooo" and "Ahh" and then leave, so what's the point of the owners giving a sales pitch for a dog, right? However, I was struck with the eerie feeling that this innocent Puppy store could possibly be a front for something else the Fratelli Family had going on. I bet if I had a secret code I could buy more than a puppy.



All in all, the experience proved that every puppy is adorable- even the damn yippy Pomeranians. I wanted to run out of there with the little Yellow Labs and had to restrain myself. Lesson learned, though: Do Not Enter the Back Room. It smelled as if the puppies that accidentally ate Taco Bell for one week then came down with food poisoning and then pooped it all over the place for one month. And no one ever cleaned it up. Skip the mace- I firmly believe if you can capture the puppy odor we smelled and put it in spray form, there would be less crime in Chicago.

Mama Fratelli must have noticed us suffocating, as she shouted at the top of her lungs, "JUNIOR! CLEAN THE CAGES. IT SMELLS LIKE SHIT BACK HERE." A clueless kid popped his head up and went for cleaning supplies. Yes, Junior. Please, for the love of God, clean the cages. Jr. must have a way with the animals, as the mention of his name caused all dogs to bark uncontrollably (except for the ones that looked to be heavily sedated.) A partial wall separated patrons from the Back Back room where it seems they were spaying and neutering the dogs as we stood looking at each other in horror.

All I know is we had to get the hell out. Something in that place is not right. But damn if I don't want to take home one of those little guys. The second I learn how to take care of myself, one will be mine. But I think when that day comes I'll direct my money to a friendly breeder, and not an underground Chicago drug ring. Or whatever is happening there.

Next time you come to town, let's drive by the store together. $10 says the place is closed.