July 22 Puppy Fever

I've been having fantasies about puppies and reading dog posts on Craigslist.
Yesterday I broached the subject with my dog-sponsor, Kate--who has always tried to distract me when I start talking dogs.

Then she showed me a picture of an adorable caramel colored Llaso Apso she used to have and it totally worked against her message and fluffed up my desire for a cutey like Thunder.

So I started doing research.  When I'm in the throes of a project, I typically go on tangents like this, a multitasking researcher.   I'd be a hard woman to live with, all over the map as I am, but so far nobody's asked to move in.

Interesting fact: during the pandemic, dogs are hard to find.  Lots of people, like me, must be wanting a furry companion.

I bought a mutt from a pet shop a few days before Day was born.  Cutest little bundle of joy I'd ever seen.  Black (his name) didn't just wag his tail, he wagged his whole curly black self.  The pet shop people said he was probably a mix of poodle and collie--but this was long before designer dogs and he only cost $15.  Unfortunately, Black didn't live but a short time--as our then-landlord ran over him.  I was too heavy to pick him up, so somebody said, "I'll get him," but either that somebody didn't, or Black wriggled out of the car unseen on that terrible dark night.

Before that, we sold wedding silver to buy an adorable German Shepherd puppy.  We named him Tony after our new city, San Antonio.  This dog was so smart, handsome, and strong.  Nobody would even consider messing with me if Tony was around. He had a fierce growl and was very protective of me.  He lived for 11 years and finally met his end by under the wheels of a car.  But during his long happy life, I used to say that he shed so much that I swept up the equivalent of a puppy every single day.

When I was pregnant with Will, my parents bought me a Siberian Husky puppy, Sasha--a gorgeous blue-eyed hyperactive puppy who also met his end under a car.

The last dog we had was Ivan, a blue heeler--but I left Helotes before he did.  A spirited rather ugly dog, I loved him to pieces!  He, like all the others, went everywhere with me in the car.  True to his breed, he tried to herd everything he saw, even cars, but remarkably he lived almost 19 years and died of natural causes.

In those days, we rarely went looking for a dog--except Tony, Sasha, and Black.

Cookie and Pollo, two identical white terriers, a decade apart, Ivan, and countless others came to our door uninvited and stayed for years. In the country, people would drop off unwanted dogs at our driveway and they'd wander up the long driveway to our house.

It's totally impractical for me to get a dog--but just for fun, I'm making up the one I want:

1. She's intelligent and affectionate.
2. Not too rambunctious, not a chewer of toes and furniture, and not too hyper.
3. He likes to sleep with or near me, but doesn't wake me in the middle of the night.
4. She (or he)  mostly likes to sit in my lap and be petted.
5. He has the joyous spirit like Black and a protectiveness like Tony and Ivan.
6. Midsize, my dog won't shed too much, preferably not at all, and will smell good.

Kate said, "Linda, what you really need is a stuffed animal!"

So be it.

But if the just-right dog should show up on my porch, what could I do but invite him in so we could check each other out?