| New Puppy
Choosing Charlie
Our
golden retriever, Charlie, is now six and a very good boy. But it seems
like only yesterday that we were picking out an adorable but wildly
mischievous puppy.
After our beloved Lady died, I cried for weeks and then a severe
case of puppyitis crept into my soul. I was drawn irresistibly to the
internet in search of golden retrievers. I had to conduct my illicit
surfing in the middle of the night so my husband Jerry wouldn't catch
me. (He said we "weren't ready".) My nightly sojourns became more
frequent and then came the phone calls. Finally I was asked to take a
long car trip. At this point, it was only fair to let Jerry in on my
secret life.
Luckily for me, my mother-in-law, Elsa, was visiting. When Jerry said,
"Over my dead body" and other spicy epithets, dear Elsa told him to
button it, "Carolee NEEDS a dog!" Right!!!
The breeder had advertised reddish-gold golden retrievers — like our
precious Lady — and he had four females. So we drove 150 miles from
Palm Desert to Palos Verdes, through L.A. rush hour traffic. This
definitely did not improve Jerry's view of our errand -- but what could
he say in front of his mother? After five hours of stress-filled
stop-and-go (during which I could picture the four females being
adopted at the rate of one per hour), we arrived. Our reward? Twelve
adorable puppies, yes, all still available, romping across a beautiful
lawn overlooking the Pacific Ocean. Jerry tried a feeble, "We don't
have to pick one today, you know." Right, we could pick TWO!
We zeroed in on the four girls, and found one to be particularly
appealing. She was smart, athletic, and energetic like our Lady had
been, but perhaps a bit more independent, not quite as willing to be
held. Then I started noticing a playful, blond doggie that kept dancing
around my feet, darting away from us and then back, as if to say "Look
at me, Mommie!" I picked up this little guy and he nuzzled me, licked
me, gently chewed on my hand, and immediately stole my heart. Suddenly
I could see the wisdom of not getting a female — the poor dear could
never compare with Lady. We needed a whole new doggie experience — a
blond boy! — it felt right.
Elsa echoed my thoughts and said, "This is a precious dog. Why not try a boy this time?"
Jerry, ever procedural and not quite with us yet, said, "If you aren't sure, we could go think it over."
"Honey", I replied, "Who needs to think?"
Who knew these words would come back to haunt me?
Elsa with Charlie
To read more about Charlie's adventures, please visit my blog
http://waggingtales4u.blogspot.com/
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