Thursday, January 25, 2018

Finally, a girl!


I had a sweet birthday celebration with my dear friend Erin.


Mom and Dad provided another great birthday companions.


No shirt required when it comes to birthday cakes!


My new 9 year old!


Where does the time go?


My (our) birthday present.  Meet Miss Rosie.

If you would have told me a year ago that I would be looking at a dog for my birthday, I would have laughed.  

Full-belly laugh.

Your crazy laugh.  

But life if funny that way.  

On my 44th birthday, I was sitting in the living room of a breeder staring into the eyes of a dog.

I think one should know that "just looking" at a dog is dangerous.  It's like "just looking" for a house.  Odds are you will walk away with a new house.  Or new dog, in our case.

The night before, our friends the Brinkruffs announced that they were considering getting a new dog.  Their new dog has a sister, they mentioned.  My usual response would be "so nice for you." Instead, I peppered them with questions.  Why so many questions? I can't explain.  Something about the dog and the situation was intriguing to me.  Before ordering dessert, we agreed to visit the breeder with them.

On Sunday (my birthday), we traveled 45 minutes to the breeder's house.  The first dog that greeted us at the door was a monster.  The owner laughed at our reaction and explained this dog was a St. Bernard/Great Dane mixture.  (Which means the dog was the size of a tank.)  I suppose seeing the largest dog known to man makes every other dog look petite.  And so when I gazed at our puppy (a plain ole St. Bernard), she looked smallish.

The 50-pound puppy was docile and sweet.  She definitely put on her best manners for "adoption day."  (I'm sort of wondering if they gave her Benadryl before our visit as she was so dang calm.)  She nestled up to my leg and cuddled near my foot.  In an instant, this non-dog person became a convert.

Chris and I agree to "talk it over" which basically involved all the males in the house telling me it was going to happen.  We called the breeder and agreed to be her new owner.  I guess the Woods' dog philosophy is "Go Big or Go Home" as we will have a dog as big as a house.

Rosie, as we are calling her, will arrive on Sunday.  I've spent the last few days getting familiar with Pet Smart and learning a new lingo: pet-speak.  Many friends are eager to share advice.  (While some share pet horror stories that scare the socks off me.) For good or bad, we are ready to start the next adventure: dog owners.  Rosie has many hands that will love on her, and hopefully lend a hand to help too!

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