I acquired Ginny through an add in the Bargain Finder. Lab-border collie cross puppies, $195 each.

'I only have one left,' said the purveyor of puppies. 'I'm on my way into town now and I can bring her with me. How about we meet in the Canadian Tire parking lot?'

'Why yes,' said I, unable to resist the idea of viewing a 3-month old puppy. I gathered up my $195 and ventured out into the rain.

From the crate in the parking lot wriggled a long, thin, wet, smelly black dog, yipping and peeing and trying to scramble up my legs. 'She's never been in a car before,' said the human, apologetically. 'Or a house.'

I scooped up the gangly beast, handed over my $195 and staggered back to the car.

Once home, Ginny's shrieking and peeing escalated. She panicked when she saw the cat, the stairs, the existing dog, humans other than me. It dawned on me that I had just purchased a dog in the most impractical manner possible. I, too, began to panic. But then she fell asleep, and when she woke up two hours later she was a happy tail-wagging house-puppy. There was something good, she must have decided, about warm, dry places where everyone gets a food dish that no one else is allowed to eat from.

Ginny is three years old now, and my best buddy. I like to think her origins explain her patient mothering of our foster puppies. She can relate.