I have a puppy!
After the departure of our last pet, I returned to school to finish my education. My husband figured that as all eight kids had been successfully educated or were in the process thereof, it was mom’s turn! However, when I finished my PhD, I was emotionally, physically, and mentally exhausted, overwhelmed, and just plain tired.
“Wouldn’t you like to get a dog?” My well-meaning husband asked.
“Not a dog. Not a cat. Not a goldfish and furthermore, not even a houseplant!”
Being the man of my dreams, he recognized the stubborn me and retrenched for another request the following year. Unfortunately for him, my answer remained the same for four such attempts. I can be as onery as a stray Lego found by a bare foot in the middle of the night while one is half asleep!
Then finally last fall during the isolation of Covid, I saw that maybe I had the emotional bandwidth to share our home with more than the multitudinous misplaced and otherwise homeless fairies who have been rehoused in our attic along with my longtime friend and dragon, Mordechai Fitzhugh Burnswell. I began a search for the perfect furry companion. Our family has had a succession of English Black Labs which grew with our children, played with our babies, and were friends to our plethora of Siamese cats. (As much as I’d love another Siamese, my son-in-law is allergic, so dog it was to be.) In considering dogs, I remembered the vacuuming and how at least twice a year, I vacuumed up what could have clothed and warmed at least a dozen dogs instead of the single Lab in residence.
I wanted the English line of Retriever, which are stockier than the rangy American breed. Think Teddy bear face paired with a walking coffee table, and you’ll understand the look I was going for. In my searching, I learned of and was intrigued by neurological training now used with newborn puppies. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ja6E4xa-6Hs It improves overall health, tolerance to stress, creates disease resistance, a stronger heart rate/beat, and a faster adrenal system. This neurological training is done in the first month of life. It doesn’t take long but when one has a large litter, it does take patience and an abundance of dedicated love.
I finally narrowed down my search to two kennels located on opposite sides of the country, one in New York and one in the Pacific Northwest. I contacted John Timme who was a wealth of information, which is why I went with Tamarack Ridge Goldendoodles in Washington state (https://www.tamarackridgegoldendoodles.com/). John places his dogs in Guardian homes with families rather than in kennels, breeds them selectively, and when due, the mamas return to Tamarack for whelping, only returning to their Guardian homes when the puppies are weaned and eating dry food. Tamarack breeds English Crème Retrievers with Moyen Poodles and the result is a “Teddybear-esque Golden Doodle”.
I called and asked to reserve a largish, cinnamon colored, female as if I were ordering a special hors d’oeuvre. John has evidently dealt with types like me and patiently explained that providing a dog-to-order was probably not feasible, but he’d be happy to put me on the list if I was interested. Considering all the research I’d done, I sent my deposit and waited happily in the 46th spot. Winter came and went, as did Spring. I slowly climbed up the list and was offered a puppy in July but picky as I am, I decided to wait and then Binadi, a lovely 22 inches at the shoulder and a healthy 70 pounds, became pregnant by Charlie, a handsome cinnamon Moyen Poodle. I got excited. In due course, Binadi produced eleven puppies and surprise, only three were female and only one was cinnamon!
Again, I lead a blessed life and due to changes in desire of those before me, I jumped to First Choice of the three little girls! The puppies are designated with colored Rick-Rack collars, which helps to tell them apart. Yellow Girl was mine! The day before pick-up, we took a leisurely drive up the Gorge, stopping to see Multnomah Falls, which I’ve wanted to do since we drove past during our honeymoon, and stopped where we wanted, ate where it looked interesting, and slept in Hermiston. By the way, the 6th Street Bistro in Hood River is amazing. Overall, it felt like we were honeymooners again – stopping, taking side trips, just enjoying being together. It was a lovely way to spend a Saturday and a much-needed break from the isolation of Covid. And … we’ve had our shots, wash our hands, and wore masks at all times.
Sunday after church in Hermiston, we drove the short distance to Umatilla and met John and the puppies as well as their respective adopting parents and assorted siblings – Pink girl now has two adopted two-legged brothers who are trying to decide who feeds and who cleans up after.
The trip home was a series of Googling various schools so the puppy could go pee without being exposed to dog parks in rest stops. Only 8 weeks old, they’d only had one vaccination out of the four that will protect them. Each stop was productive. No puppy mishaps but due to an unexpected car accident ahead of us, it was approaching midnight when we arrived home. We fed a very hungry puppy, she hadn’t eaten all day (a recommendation against car sickness), took her outside, where she performed admirably, and brought her upstairs to her bedroom crate. At which point, she became unhappy.
After spending the day cuddled in my arms, massaged, and petted for ten hours, being consigned to a crate, albeit one that is comfortable, clean, and in our bedroom, did not please her majesty. Remembering training eight children, I knew this was a test of wills. I sat next to her kennel, spoke softly, and praised her whenever she settled. However, when I climbed back into my very-much-needed-bed, her line-of-sight was broken, and she voiced her immediate displeasure. After several attempts at sleep, we had a great idea. She’d listened to music for the entire car ride home … maybe? We found out that she loves the Tabernacle Choir at Temple Square! And it wasn’t a fluke. After her one night-time potty break at 4:30, she wanted to play. Again, I sat on the floor and calmed her, but it wasn’t until we turned on the Choir that she gave in to puppy dreams and allowed us to recover from two days of driving across the state.
Although I often call her “Monkey”, a name which I liberally apply to my grands, her official name is Scribswell Quillington, reflecting my writing proclivities, and shall be known as Scribbles. She is very foofy as my daughter says and looks like one of my grandchildren’s scribbles. Also, she had to have a special name as she will figure in a story with my dragon (see above). We are in love, and she already follows me, sleeps under my desk, or under my chair, as I compose the next great American novel.
