More Advice for Aspiring Veg*n Business Owners July 21, 2009

Recently, I shared some tips for those of you who someday want to own a vegetarian or vegan business. Here are a couple more for you:

• Your suppliers might screw up, even if you’ve been working with them for years and they know what not to send you. Today, I received a shipment from a supplier who mixed up my order with someone else’s and sent a case of suede sneakers along with the canvas ones. I’ve worked with them for almost three years now, and while this is not the first time they’ve goofed, it is the first time they’ve goofed badly enough to send me non-vegan merchandise, which they know not to do.  (The suede sneakers are boxed up and going back to the manufacturer, of course.) Be vigilant! When I work with a supplier that is not 100% vegan, I check the content labels on every single item that arrives…just in case.
• You will occasionally miss out on fun events and family stuff, especially if your landlord insists you keep the store open every day. I had to skip my brother’s college graduation because it was in a remote Midwestern town. I couldn’t just fly out for the day (it was several hours away from the nearest airport), I was still looking for an assistant, and I couldn’t close the store for a few days without violating my lease agreement. (I made it up to him, though – I baked him a chocolate-chip cake when he returned. He loves my cake.)
• You will encounter people who use something incorrectly and refuse to take responsibility for it. I never cease to be shocked by people who do not take proper care of their things and then get upset when the bag, shoes, etc. can’t take the abuse anymore. Similarly, you may encounter people who, for example, order something from the children’s menu and then throw a tantrum because the portions are small (I’m not kidding, someone actually did that at a vegan restaurant in LA last year), or leave the all-natural face masque on for twice as long as the label recommends.

Just FYI.

Read This Before You Start a Veg*n Business July 10, 2009

Every time I’m interviewed, I’m asked what advice I would give to someone who was thinking of starting a similar business.

Truthfully, there are times when I’m tempted to half-jokingly say “Don’t do it.”

In my most recent interview, I mentioned preparing to work harder than ever before. I’d like to go a little more in-depth here:

• You may encounter delays in getting the business open. My initial projected opening date was February, 2006. But, the store interior had to be fixed up first (it was a completely blank space: no electricity, no phone wiring, not even drywall). The contractor said it would take until March…then we were told we’d be open in time for Earth Day. Our actual opening day was May 4. (He also made the display units incorrectly, but there was no time to have them re-done.)  Read the introduction to the Babycakes cookbook. The bakery’s oven was not delivered on time, meaning the bakery could not open on the scheduled opening date…despite the line of impatient potential customers tapping on the glass. If I ever open another location or move the store, I’ll have a “soft opening” as soon as everything’s up and running, and only then will I start planning the grand-opening party (to be held a few weeks later). Potential restaurant owners: it can take several months to get all the permits and inspections taken care of. That’s several months that the business will be sitting empty and not making money. Just FYI.
• You will encounter people who do not know what the words “vegan” and “vegetarian” mean. They may be customers, would-be suppliers, or job applicants. Most of these people are okay, but a select few of them will freak out or try to pick a fight with you when they realize where they are or what you’re selling. I’m not kidding. (BTW, a shoe manufacturer once tried to sell me fish-skin shoes, after I’d dropped the V-word. True story.)
• Someday, even if things are going pretty well, you are likely to suffer from burnout. This is something that affects most business owners, actually – but I see it more among people who run any kind of counterculture business, since we work in a world that still doesn’t understand us. Not everyone burns out, of course, and cases can be mild to severe.
• Kiss vacations goodbye for a while. Unless, of course, you are already independently wealthy and can hire extra employees to cover you while you skip off to Hawaii for two weeks. I haven’t had a vacation since 2003.
• You may have to kiss your health insurance goodbye for a while, too. Especially if you’re young, single, sinking your savings into your business, and are only working one job.
• You will probably work longer hours than ever before. Independent retail store owners sometimes work 14-hour days. My hours aren’t quite that scary at the moment, but I’ve put in a few 18-hour days, believe it or not. Work hours for culinary businesses can be even longer due to all the prep work involved with food.
• You will be swamped in November and December. This should be obvious, but I recommend you schedule that ski weekend for January, not during prime holiday shopping.
• You personally will have to cover for sick or injured employees, at least until you can afford to hire extra staff. That may mean having to forgo scheduled off days. Last year, my business partner became ill, and I had to cover all of her work shifts for over a month. When she was finally able to return, I was more exhausted than I ever have been in my life (except maybe for the last three months of college).
• You may have to go to work when you are sick or injured. I certainly have. (The only “sick days” I have taken were the day I had my wisdom teeth removed and the day after that – and only because I didn’t react well to the anesthesia.)
• You will have to be “the bad guy” sometimes, since you will be making company rules and setting company policy, and not everyone will agree with you.
• Choose employees carefully, and don’t hire the wrong person even if you are desperate. Trust me on this. Picking up the slack yourself is easier than hiring and training someone only to not have them work out. In a previous job, my supervisors hired several candidates who really weren’t cut out for the position (due to a dearth of good applicants), and believe me, it was not a pleasant situation.
• Legally, you can’t selectively hire only veg*n applicants. In the US, it’s illegal to refuse to hire a qualified applicant because of his or her beliefs (if outside the US, check your country’s labor laws). There are people who do just that, but you could get sued. Granted, if you run a veg*n business there is a good chance most of your applicants will be veg*n, but you have to allow interested omnivores to apply. (In three years, I’ve only had one non-vegetarian applicant. I didn’t hire her because she had no experience in retail and the other applicant did.)
• Depending on your circumstances, you may or many not be able to get a small business loan. Loans require things like co-signers and collateral. If you’re young and don’t own anything of value, such as a car or house, or if you have no close family or friends who are willing to take on the risk of having to pay back a loan if you default, you may have to just stay in your current job and sack away as much money as you can for a while.
• You must be VERY vigilant against theft, fraud, etc. Especially now. In three years I’ve lost well under $100 worth of merchandise to shoplifters, but lately, attempted fraudulent online orders have been through the roof. I’ve gone from checking only the suspicious orders to checking most orders – and it’s a good thing I have, since I recently kept a sizable, but relatively innocent-looking, order from being sent to an identity thief.
• Always be nice to the delivery people and the letter carrier, even if they aren’t outwardly pleasant. When a shipment or a bill goes missing, you will want these people on your side. (Granted, sometimes there’s nothing you can do…we used to have a mailman who was an absolute nightmare to deal with, but I won’t get into that.)

If I think of anything else later, I will update this list.

Good luck!

Why do I hear crickets chirping? May 5, 2009

Yesterday marked three solid years in business. Mondays are our second-biggest sales days in any given week (after Saturday), so I had no qualms about having a special one-day sale in the store.

I announced the sale via our Earth Day newsletter, then sent a reminder last Friday…which, apparently, few people bothered to read.

I just don’t get it…certain clients on a budget beg me to notify them if a certain item goes on sale, I tell them the email list always gets first notice and suggest they sign up, and then they don’t take advantage of sales?! It makes me wonder if going to the trouble of having special sales is even worth it.

P.S. Online people – free shipping ends at closing time on May 7. Get your orders in NOW.

A Day in the Life of a Vegan Shoe Lady April 14, 2009

9:36 a.m. Wake up. Roll off the air mattress.

9:38 a.m. Feed the cats. Start heating the grill pan.

9:45 a.m. Eat breakfast panini (hickory-smoked Tofurky with mustard, Vegenaise, and dill pickle slices).

9:57 a.m. Shower; usual grooming routine.

10:20 a.m. Shoo cat (the naughty one) away from closet door (what is it with cats and closets?). Realize I need to do laundry. Slip into jeans, boatneck tee, Beyond Skin “Cherub” shoes (consolation prize; Beyond Skin stopped making the “Keira” shoes I’d been lusting after for years), and matching velveteen beret.

10:36 a.m. Leave for work.

10:57 a.m. Park car. Check mailbox – oh, good, UPS remembered to send the invoice this week.

11:00 a.m. Open for business. Start processing orders received during the night.

11:05 a.m. Follow up with supplier on stock swap that seems to be taking an awfully long time. Delete spam e-mails.

11:15 a.m. Delete phone message from pushy sales rep.

11:35 a.m. Re-fold wadded-up t-shirts left on shelf by customer in a rush. Wonder why so many people go shopping when they don’t have time to relax and enjoy it. (Granted, I’m almost always in a rush myself and am so high-strung I usually have trouble relaxing, but I never go shopping when I’m in a hurry if I can possibly avoid it.)

12:45 p.m. Hand off outgoing parcels to UPS driver; take incoming box.

12:47 p.m. Send out order-shipment notification messages.

12:52 p.m. Cut open just-arrived box. Oh, goody – new copies of Skinny Bitch and Skinny Bastard. (And Skinny Bitch is only two weeks late.) Worry about the publisher forgetting to send our Vegan Brunch order next month, since they “lost” our Veganomicon order last year and forced us to wait an extra month while more copies were printed.

12:55 p.m. Call business partner to let her know the books are here.

12:58 p.m. Put copies of both books side-by-side in the window. Start skimming Skinny Bastard for a brief summary on the website.

1:25 pm. Routine website maintenance.

1:30 p.m. Discover Skinny Bastard isn’t supposed to be released until April 27. Oh, crud. Recall the time a couple of bookstores got into trouble for accidentally selling a few copies of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince before the official release date. Wonder if I should pull them from the shelves.

1:50 p.m. Call business partner to let her know about the release date issue. B.P. tells me an interesting story about how she’s been on the phone half the day because someone’s medical records mysteriously turned up in the middle of her street and she’s trying to find out how to return them. Realize I should finish researching health insurance rates.

2:05 p.m. Conduct physical inventory of Neuaura (spring/summer ‘09 collection) for a fill-in order.

2:15 p.m. Ditto for Vegetarian Shoes.

2:35 p.m. God, Skinny Bastard is funny – possibly even funnier than Skinny Bitch. I personally could do with a little less of the male-anatomy talk, but then I’m not a guy.

2:45 p.m. Go over the autumn/winter Samsara catalog, checking off styles I think will sell well.

2:58 p.m. Heat up lunch (potato and watercress hash, grilled baby broccoli, roasted Brussels sprouts).

3:15 p.m. Decline offer to appear at local college’s Earth Day fair; it falls during work hours on a weekday and no one will be able to cover the store. Ask them to keep us in mind for next year – you never know.

3:25 p.m. Perform a Code 10 on a suspiciously huge online order. Credit card processor says it’s a decline and the billing information doesn’t match. Cancel charge and delete order.

3:31 p.m. New supplier (Malcolm Fontier) sends me tracking information for our opening order (we’ve got to have SOME decent men’s/unisex wallets in stock before we can get the fall Samsara collection, and we just sold the last Matt & Nat one). I’m impressed by their promptness; the order was only placed yesterday.

3:55 p.m. Read Girlie Girl Army post about the return of white denim. Remember I have some white denim left over from an old project. Brainstorm ideas (jacket? beret? both?) while straightening shelves. Wonder if my pseudo-English Rose complexion will look washed out in white.

4:02 p.m. Dust off and re-stock cosmetics display case.

4: 12 p.m. Am asked for the 10,000th time if we carry TOMS shoes. Patiently refer customer to the skate shop next door, which does. (I don’t believe in competing with my neighbors.)

4:37 p.m. New customer asks what Vegetarian Shoes’ “April” flats are made of, then apologizes for her ignorance regarding nonleather materials. I assure her she needn’t apologize; I answer that question all day long. I’m used to it.

4:41 p.m. Receive email from new sales rep at former supplier (which shall remain nameless) that wants to get back on our shelves. Reply to new sales rep, summarizing all the problems we had with the company in the past and explaining our reticence to trust them again.

4:53 p.m. Fax machine behaving badly.

5:10 p.m. Explain to a customer (again) that we can’t carry a certain celebrity’s shoe line because they refuse to sell to small retailers. (They’re hideously overpriced anyway.) As she dreamily chatters about how much she loves another celebrity’s shoe line, I consider telling her about the time I got kicked out of said celebrity’s booth at a footwear trade show for asking about the brand’s labor policies. (Can anyone guess which celeb it was? Hint: she’s an airhead.) Decide to bite my tongue instead; few people actually believe me when I tell that story.

5:31 p.m. Consider bumping closing time back to 7p.m. starting Monday. Dinner traffic at Native Foods seems to be picking up gradually.

5: 33 p.m. Four Harveys bags fall off a shelf. Stuff the bigger ones with paper to help keep them upright, then put them back.

5: 40 p.m. Stretch back (owww!) and start re-folding t-shirts that have gotten a bit disheveled.

5:48 p.m. Finalize Earth Day plans with B.P.

6:01 p.m. Close up shop and head for home.

6:28 p.m. Pick up a few compact fluorescent lightbulbs (I’m gradually replacing all my incandescents).

7:10 p.m. Arrive home. Take out trash.

7:14 p.m. Start laundry.

7:20 p.m. Take dinner (roasted tofu “fish”, brown rice pilaf, baby bok choy) out of microwave.

7:30 p.m. Watch classic episode of “The Simpsons” on couch with kitties.

8:00 p.m. Shut off TV. Hang up laundry to dry.

8:05 p.m. Toss bedsheets in wash. Pack tomorrow’s lunch.

8:15 p.m. Read email from darling boyfriend. Nibble a lemon-macadamia cupcake.

9 p.m. Change burned-out lightbulb in bathroom. Good thing dimmable CFLs are finally available.

9:10 p.m. Toss bedsheets in dryer (my place is too small for them to line-dry).

9:15 p.m. Renew animal-sanctuary membership.

9:20 p.m. Polish living room furniture.

10:15 p.m. Put away that stack of CDs, make bed.

10:27 p.m. Try to do a little more closet organization. (I’ve given away roughly half the contents of my little bachelorette pad in the past 6 months and I STILL think I have too much stuff!)

11:00 p.m. Another classic “Simpsons” episode.

11:30 p.m. Go over next month’s schedule.

12:00 p.m. Get ready for bed.

12:20 p.m. Sit up in bed reading “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” (WAY better than the movie) to unwind.

12:45 a.m. Lights out.

1:56 a.m. Voices in communal pool area. Look outside bedroom window to see shirtless neighbors drinking beer on the deck chairs. Call security.

2:20 a.m. Zzzzzzzzzz…

Westwood Location Closing (But We’re Not!) March 31, 2009

Cross-posted from our Myspace blog:

Hi Everyone,

Well, after one year, our LA kiosk is closing.

Ironically, at a time when so many independent boutiques are going under, the Westwood store is NOT a victim of the economy.

As many of you already know, our Westwood kiosk is in Native Foods’ rear alcove. Native Foods now has investors who are taking the business to the next level – the chain could even go global one day. One of the changes being implemented is an expansion of Native’s own retail sales (prepared food, books, etc. – but they won’t have shoes!), and since they need the alcove space for that, we are packing up and getting out of their hair.

There have been some rumors that we are going out of business. They are NOT TRUE. (By the way, we have a pretty good idea of who is spreading the rumors, so please knock it off. Gossiping is so tacky and vulgar!) We are just closing the smaller of our two locations because Native needs the space.

We have discussed opening a full-size store in LA (or just moving the flagship), but given the cost of opening a store in such a high-rent market, we feel it would be prudent to wait until the economy is in better shape. (Of course, if any other animal-friendly businesses in LA would like to have a Humanitaire kiosk, please let us know. )

Due to varying scheduling issues, we will have to empty the shelves this Sunday, April 5. If you live in LA, this is your last to shop in-store with us without having to make the drive down to Orange County. (As LA natives, we have to wonder – why do so many Angelenos hate OC? Yes, it’s a long drive, but the traffic is so much lighter and there’s ample parking almost everywhere. )

Bottom line: get your shopping done by Sunday afternoon, ’cause that’s when we’re clearing the shelves. All unsold Westwood stock will be taken to our Costa Mesa flagship store.

Thank you all for supporting our Westwood mini-store. We hope to see you all in Costa Mesa soon!

- The Shoe Lady

Diplomacy in Refusal March 9, 2009

As a fourth-generation member of the fashion world, I have an extremely snarky sense of humor.

I laugh hysterically whenever Ugly Betty villainess Wilhelmina mocks or condemns others’ sartorial gaffes (the gladiator sandal scene last week? Pure genius). I own a button that says “Fashion Police” (and occasionally harbor fantasies about issuing citations to people wearing Crocs, Uggs, real fur, and clothes that don’t even come close to fitting properly). When I’m feeling particularly puckish I could probably give the late Mr. Blackwell a run for his money.

However, as I don’t (yet) wield the power of, say, Anna Wintour, I tend to save the snark for after hours. When dealing with potential suppliers, I’m as professional as any store buyer ever gets…even when what they’re selling is absolutely revolting. (Exception: the little snot mentioned in a previous entry who threw a tantrum when I refused to order the sheep-fur boots he was selling, and very nearly had to be removed by the police. Anyone who tries to sell me dead animals does so at the risk of being ticketed for trespassing.)

Here’s where that gets tricky: niche fashion is NOT like mainstream fashion. In mainstream fashion, the right people can say “It’s hideous – put it on a corpse and bury it” to a designer’s face and still maintain their respected status. In niche fashion, selection is often limited, and when you’re aiming for eco-friendly, vegan, AND sweat-free, not only is the selection limited but it’s often unattractive, made from impractical materials, and designed by amateurs with good intentions but very limited know-how.

Here are excerpts from some of the e-mails M. and I, as co-buyers, have sent each other in regard to the worst offenders:

“Ugh, this crap looks like it was made out of Grandma’s old plastic tablecloths.”

“Are these people high?”

“Are you kidding? This stuff looks like a school kid’s art project.”

“Who the hell is going to wear this?!”

“I had a bag like that in the ’70s and it was a bad idea then, too.”

“If all bamboo/organic cotton/hemp apparel is this skimpy and sloppy-looking, the green-fashion movement is is SERIOUS trouble.”

Do you get the idea?

We’ve been open long enough now to know what sorts of things just don’t sell. Some of the stuff that prompted the comments listed might sell in a laid-back market like San Francisco, but would never, ever cut it in Southern California, land of hedonism and (metaphorical) plastic. Our flagship is behind the Orange Curtain, for seitan’s sake! If something looks like it was made by a child, only comes in ugly colors (or worse, ugly patterns), or looks like it was pilfered from the corpse of a dead hippie, no one in this market is going to buy it. Laugh at it, maybe, but I have to carry things that will actually sell.

Which begs the question of what to tell someone who is trying to sell me something that won’t sell in the store.

As a blunt, honest person, I WANT to tell them point-blank why their wares can’t cut it in this style-oriented, perfection-obsessed market. I’d love to sit them all down, show them pictures of our top-selling styles, and ask them to drop us a line when they’re making something in a similar vein. I would readily offer to help them develop products that I could sell all day long. I’d win, they’d win, my customers would win, and everyone would be happy, right?

If only it were that easy.

The fact of the matter is, designers (even the amateurs) are often hypersensitive creatures who do not take criticism well (and I’m allowed to say that because I’m one too). Some niche designers get as pissy, defensive, and illogical as that decrepit gargoyle Karl Lagerfeld whenever he’s defending his obscene use of fur. If more niche designers would at LEAST take a class in line development, the situation would not exist. But they don’t, and so it continues. (I can’t blame anyone for not wanting to go to fashion school or intern with a designer – it’s a LOT of work and can be very, VERY expensive – but when designers don’t know how to create a line that works for its target market – or worse, don’t even know who makes up their target market – it shows. Big time.)

I’d like to help them. Really, I would. But, how exactly does one do that with someone who gets mad and wails “Why not?!” when you politely decline to place an order with them?

I want to give an honest answer so they can get to work creating better products. But, realistically, I know that if I did, I’d just be written off as mean and snobby. I can be a little snobby (there ARE times when it’s appropriate – don’t let someone with no standards and no self-respect tell you otherwise), but I am NOT mean, and should not be described as such when I’m just trying to help.

I am really getting quite tired of relying on “not interested” for a response when constructive criticism would ultimately be more helpful, but what can you do when no one will accept it?

Monday. Blah. January 26, 2009

Still no sign of Spanky. I’m told my parents’ other cat, a Japanese bobtail/American shorthair/whatever mix named Darla, has been crying nonstop since he vanished. Darla’s usually crabby and has been really mean to Spanky at times (think Linus and Lucy from “Peanuts”), but she loves him, too (think Linus and Lucy, again). I have to marvel at some individuals’ wacky idea that animals don’t have feelings.

Dead quiet today. Come on, you guys can’t ALL be broke…

Re-stocked the shelves in Westwood over the weekend for all you LA people who hate making the trip behind the Orange Curtain. If you don’t see the size or style you want, try our website. (Why do LA residents hate coming to Orange County so much? It may be a bit of a drive, but the shopping’s good, parking is plentiful, traffic is much lighter, some of our beaches are really nice, and we have Disneyland.)

I’m not feeling too chipper today, but I am excited that Bones is getting a vegan character (link warning: SPOILERS!) in the future. I’m not sure if I’ll watch the episode discussed in the Bones Spoiler Blog when it airs, as the subject matter depresses me…I might watch Ugly Betty instead, since the two shows are now airing at the same time (aaargh!), and catch Bones online later (then I can fast-forward through any particularly irritating scenes – no, I don’t have a DVR – and the blog was a little unclear on whether the vegan character was appearing in that episode or not). The entertainment world needs more vegan and vegetarian characters – good ones, not the walking stereotypes that make closed-minded omnivores snicker. Given that costar Emily Deschanel is vegan, I imagine the writers will be able to create a great vegan character.

New Flagship Store Hours January 12, 2009

Due to the current economic situation, we’ve trimmed the store hours in Costa Mesa (it’s wasteful to run the lights and computer all evening if you people aren’t shopping, you know). Westwood’s hours will stay the same (unless Native Foods is forced to start closing earlier), and shophumanitaire.com is always available 24/7.

The current flagship store hours are:

M-F 11am – 6pm
Sat. 11am – 7pm
Sun. 11am – 4pm

If the store answering machine message lists different hours, ignore it. We’ve re-recorded the message dozens of times, but we’re mysteriously receiving the occasional claim that the message lists the original hours. We have no idea what’s going on with that thing, but please ignore it. All other information on the message is still current.

All I Want for Christmas December 12, 2008

Dear Santa,

I have to admit that, being a 27-year-old woman of a logical/rational nature, I’ve long believed you don’t exist.

But, I’m in a bit of a pickle this year, so if you are at all real I need help. You know I’ve been good. Help a lady out.

You know about the economy and how it’s killing off small businesses left and right. I have worked my arse off to get the store open and keep it open. It’s not a good time to be job hunting, let alone job hunting in the fashion industry, so I need business to stabilize enough to stay open.

My family needs money and a miracle – you know about that.

Peace on Earth and an end to animal/human exploitation would make me happy enough to forget my own troubles.

My perennially aching back needs a new bed and a couch that doesn’t stab my derriere with yet another popped spring every time I try to sit on it.

I could really use the money the probate court (still!) owes me – you saw the huge pile of ill-fitting clothes I recently donated to charity, plus the ratty old jeans I sent to the Habitat for Humanity denim insulation drive. I really do need some newer clothes that actually fit (clothing swaps are not an option when you are taller and much more well-endowed than all of your girlfriends).

I’ve been coughing and sneezing for weeks due to the combination of lousy air quality and unsealed windows in my tiny bachelorette pad; a good air purifier would be nice.

Also, I could use some help picking out a gift for The Boyfriend that I can actually afford.

Well? What say you, Mr. Claus?

L.

Why is it… September 19, 2008

…that some people think I’m a rich trust-fund brat or something to that effect?

Seriously, I’m not. Prissy? Sure. Rich? I wish!

I live in a neighborhood that has taken a dive in the past two years. I do not have luxuries like cable TV or a working set of speakers. I’ve been sleeping on an air mattress with a slow leak for months because I have needed a new bed for years and don’t yet have the funds to replace the beat-up, sagging one I’ve had since 1986, which has probably made my back problems even worse. I can’t even get our static-plagued phone line fixed (the phone company refused to install the line and doesn’t consider it their problem, and we had to fire the tech guy who did).

Rising fuel costs and the crumbling dollar have been killing small retailers for the past several months. I have worked way too hard on this business to throw in the towel, so I am standing my ground.

I was raised to believe that talking about money was vulgar (exceptions: discussions with financial consultants, accountants, bank loan officers, etc. and setting family budgets – and even then it should be kept brief). Haggling? Fit only for the flea markets (and even there I refuse to do it on principle). In our culture, one builds a relationship with a vendor over time and if they extend any special offers, great. (And believe me, if you patronize a good one really well for at least a few years it’s more likely to happen.) If not, one certainly shouldn’t be so rude as to ask. Really, cheapening things has killed and buried Main Street USA.

I realize not everyone is going to share my values and ethics, but that’s hardly an excuse for such disrespectful behavior.

And I’m not the only vegan retailer with similar feelings.

On an unrelated note, I cried buckets watching BONES the other night. If I had the space, funds, time, and landlord’s permission for a dog I probably would have started looking up dog rescue groups. I am rather fond of my best friend’s dog, a Dalmatian/pit mix she found abandoned on the side of a desert highway.