I had no plans to get a puppy. And, even though I enjoy the video, I really didn’t plan for a Hanukkah puppy.
With three dogs (and a cat, a canary and two horses) already sharing my little homestead in Los Angeles, more than one of my friends have questioned my sanity. It’s a fair query. But we all know the mental health ship sailed long ago.
But honestly, I didn’t expect to get a new puppy. Yet.
That isn’t to say I didn’t have puppy fever. I always have puppy fever. Doesn’t everyone? Their smushy puppy faces, pink tummies and new puppy smell… Who doesn’t swoon at a puppy?
Puppies are adorable. They are happy, innocent beings, full of joy and life. They wake up every day excited for what great, new things they will discover. Mostly they discover the joys of ripping up paper, chewing sneakers and passing out twenty minutes after eating.
Everyone needs a little of that in their lives.
I sure could. Particularly after 2020.
The pandemic, which cost the lives of family and friends and kept me from seeing the living ones since March, has been devastating. I also lost my five-year-old horse Faith, who had been with me since conception, and my dear Great Dane Fiona, who I’d only had for nineteen months. They died the same week.
But did I need a puppy? Need is such a loaded term.
People need food and shelter. But some of us also need dogs.
I had planned to wait until my two ancient canines, Poppy and Dalai, passed before I got a new dog. Dalai is a 10 ½-year-old Great Dane. Her hind end is weak and getting worse, and she has many small tumors, some of which are probably malignant. Understandably, she is occasionally grumpy. She is the Queen of Seven Hills Farm West.
Poppy is a 15-year-old mostly deaf Brittany with Cushing Disease. Last year she had a dramatic case of glaucoma that resulted in an eye removal. She tolerates other dogs, but her playing days are years behind her.
Given all that, I was going to wait on an addition to the family.
Additionally, my friend Twinkle got a Dane puppy. Twinkle is a teacher, and her classes on Zoom coincide with my morning ride times. This meant I could take her puppy, Mighty, almost daily to play with the barn dogs, several of which were puppies. This is my idea of heaven.
I got my puppy fix and she could concentrate without worrying about Mighty tearing the house apart or driving her older dog Blue, crazy. Win-win.
Mighty should have fulfilled my need for a puppy. Perhaps if I was a normal person it would have. I have already established this is not the case.
I am very conflicted about purchasing a dog. I am a supporter of rescuing dogs. I know that shelter dogs are rarely dumped because of anything they’ve done. Somewhere along the line their owners have failed them. Badly.
All eight of my Brittanys, and two of my five Great Danes were rescues, but I knew my next would be a puppy. I had too much death in 2020 to adopt another ancient dog, and I believe that my grumpy old dogs would more easily accept and train a goofy puppy, than a confused, disoriented, senior. Since Great Dane puppies in rescue are slightly rarer than unicorns, I would be buying a puppy.
I had no plans to purchase a dog any in 2020.
Man plans, God laughs.
About three weeks after Mighty’s arrival on the scene, Dalai’s health declined drastically. Coincidentally, Jasper’s breeder posted photos of her four-week-old puppies.
This complicated things.
I like this breeder. She is super-responsible and only has a few litters a year. It helps that Jasper is the whole package: he is gorgeous, has a great temperament and so far (knock wood) has had no health issues.
The breeder had two females, and I had already decided on a girl. I told her to pick out the most passive of the girls, and I’d put a deposit on it.
Venmo sent, the deal was done.
There was still one more kink in the chain. The breeder and the puppies are in Kentucky.
In November when this was all coming together, I still believed that I was going to throw all of my dogs into the car and drive cross-country to see Mom for the holidays. I’d make a side trip to Kentucky to pick up the puppy, just like I had done for Jasper. Easy-peasey. And fun! (I LOVE Kentucky, if not their politics.)
Plans….
In December Covid-19 cancelled non-essential travel for everyone except selfish jerks.
The puppy needed to leave the week before Xmas, I needed a plan B to get her to Los Angeles.
Located deep in Kentucky but a few hours from Nashville airport, the breeder has shipped puppies all over the country, so that seemed like a plan. She also had another puppy coming to Los Angeles.
This would be a no-brainer for most people. Most people are not neurotic freaks. I however, am.
I am no fan of flying dogs in cargo. With the help of Xanax and an elaborate strategy I have flown with Poppy in the belly of a plane. My tactics involves kissing up to the pilot, flight attendants and cargo people by bribing them with expensive candy and charming notes.
That only works if I’m on the plane.
I flew Jasper home on my lap, but, Covid. There was no way I was flying back and forth to Nashville pick up a puppy, even for this puppy. Nor was I, as a friend from a obviously different economic situation suggested, going to pay a human to fly her to me.
(Full disclosure, 15 years ago I did fly back and forth to Albuquerque on morning to get Poppy from the American Brittany Rescue. That was pre-Covid and I had a zillion frequent flier miles. Neither of which count now.)
The little one was going to have to go it alone.
To Be Continued…
Lionsandtigersandbearsetc 