Happy Birthday, Puppy!

September 13th was my friend Jill’s, my brother’s and my dog’s birthday.

Yes, I know my dog’s birthday. I didn’t get her on her birthday, that was more like November 3rd, 1999. The picture was taken on our way home from “Grandma & Grandpa’s” house this week. She rarely relaxes in the car. She looked peaceful and beautiful, so I had to take a picture.

She was so cute. 6 pounds of pure fluff. She also chose me. Mom & Dad were in town. Dad was installing a disposable shower in the basement of the house I was renting. Mom & I decided that we’d help by going shopping.

I was only a few blocks from South Bend’s Farmer’s Market. It’s not too bad of a market. I have seen worst. I enjoy going to get fresh cut flowers and/or perennials. In the autumn, I am all about the apples & cider too. This autumnal day, as we were meandering through the market, we encounter a guy with 3 puppies. I had moved into this rental for the specific reason of getting a dog. I made sure the Landlords were dog-friendly before signing the lease.

I wanted a boy dog. Girl ones are, well…lets just say there is a reason the term for female dogs is used negatively. I also wanted a golden retriever.

Of the 3 dogs, 2 were male and one was golden retriever-like. Yeah, it wasn’t one of the boys…darn it. I see the golden-like one squirming and snipping. Total wiggle-worm. I took her from the little girl that was just about ready to drop her. The darn thing curled up in a ball, tucked her nose in my cleavage and fell asleep. The man declared that I must take this dog, as she hated everyone else. Sure…uh huh…nice try. “Seriously,” he said “hand her to anyone.” I did as asked. Wriggle-pup showed up again. This time Mom picked the little fluff ball up. Snuggled with her.

OK, so maybe he was telling the truth. I took the puppy back and sure enough, she cuddled with me. I looked at my Mom & she gave me this all-knowing look and asked “So, what’s her name?” The yet-to-be-named puppy then lifted its little head up and licked my chin. *Heart melting*

She chose me.

We get home and go to the basement. I put “little 6 pounds” down and let her walk over to Dad. He just rolled his eyes. He loved her instantly too, even though he wouldn’t admit it.

She wasn’t named for a few days. Mom came up with some dorky names – Maple is the one that I recall. No, she’s not a Maple… My friend Jess was over & the Simon & Garfunkle song came on; Little-No-Name actually reacted to that song. She liked Cecelia. She apparently likes to be named after some hoochie mama that invited other men up to some guy’s bedroom (really, go listen to the song: “…up in my bedroom. I got up to wash my face, when I come back to bed, someone’s taken my place” – they were in HIS bedroom!).

As I sit here in my living room, I am watching my puppy sleep. She just had a bath. And as much as I love her, I cannot deny that she really smells bad – even after a bath.

Mostly, I remember that she chose me.