June 1999, I decided I wanted a Boston terrier. My neighbor had one and hers was always well behaved, stayed in her yard and never wandered off.
I checked the newspaper and found a puppy farm in a small town not far from where one of my sister's lived.
The man had two litters.
I picked out a little male that had good markings and held him up for inspection. He wiggled and squirmed wanting down so I put him on the floor and he took off, never looking back.
I looked in the box and one of the puppies was lying on it's back waving at me.
The waving puppy's markings weren't as pretty, but I picked him up anyway. He lay on his back in the palm of my hand looking up at me. I put him down to see what he would do. The waving dog sat on my foot and didn't move.
I put waving puppy back in the box with his litter mates and went looking for the busy one. Again, he squirmed wanting down to explore, so I put him back in the box.
Waving puppy was again on his back waving at me. I picked him up and gave him a closer inspection.
I told the man, "I've got to have this one, he keeps waving at me."
My sister decided she had to have one too so we both ended up with a puppy that day.
I named mine Basil Hamlet. Basil sounded like an English butler and to me that's what he looked like.
Hamlet is because he is a ham in personality and a piggy when it comes to food.
I've always heard that you should let the dog pick you instead of the other way around and I believe it is true because he's the best dog I've ever had.
And he still stays right where I am and never wanders off.
