The Saga of Pearlie - Part 1
by Tara Courtland
September 11, 2018

Note: CH Feliz Perla de Las Antillas RA lived with us from March 2017 until she crossed the Rainbow Bridge in June 2018 at the age of 15.

To be honest, I’m not a dog person. I’m not really a cat person either. I’m really just more of an ice cream person.

I like dogs just fine. I just expect them to be low-maintenance. Dogs come from the SPCA. Their breed is “mutt.” They eat kibble and the last bite of my PB&J. They sleep on dog beds and they get to the back yard through a dog door. When they need bathing, I pull them into the shower with me for a dog-shampooing.

And then Pearlie moved in.

Pearlie was a Havana silk dog, which is a very expensive, very yappy, very high-maintenance show dog. My mother-in-law was a Westminster-level breeder and when she died 18 months ago, all her dogs went to live with her expensive-show-dog friends.

Except Pearlie.

Pearlie was special; the love of her heart. Pearlie was named for my mother-in-law’s own mother, Pearl. There was no one good enough for Pearlie, who went everywhere with her. Pearlie was also very old, very deaf, very loud and very, very spoiled.

In life, my mother-in-law never considered our home good enough for any of her dogs, much less for Pearlie. But when she died, we had no better option so Pearlie came home with us.

I could handle this. I introduced Pearlie to our SPCA-rescue poodle, Sushi, I showed Pearlie the dog door, the kibble and the water and threw an extra dog bed on the floor.

My wife looked at me in horror.

“Pearlie has to sleep in our bed.”

No. Way. Dogs sleep in their own beds, children sleep in their own beds, I sleep in my own bed with one adult human and no non-humans.

“MY MOTHER WILL HAUNT ME!”

“My mother will haunt me” became the battle cry of Pearlie’s new life and I was about to lose this, and every other battle involving the champion show dog.

That night, I went to bed with Pearlie sleeping on 3/4 of my pillow.

In the morning, Pearlie was standing on the bed looking down.

“Pearlie can’t get off the bed without help.”

“Pearlie should sleep on the floor then.”

“MY MOTHER WILL HAUNT ME!”

We ordered steps for the bed so Pearlie could come and go at will. My wife also ordered steps for the sofa.

“Dogs don’t sit on the sofa.”

“MY MOTHER WILL HAUNT ME!”

We got steps for the sofa.

I know -- you’re wondering what Pearlie was going to eat, how well house-broken Pearlie was, how soon we were going to rearrange the house to suit her and what happened whenever my wife left the house without Pearlie. Then stay tuned for Part 2 of The Saga of Pearlie.