As if we need it . . .

I’m getting a puppy!  It’s not as if we need it.  We don’t even have our own place yet.  I just want something to love and adore me.  I know Rob and Andrea love and adore me, but that’s different. 

 

Hank, the man we live with, has 2 birds.  One is a sun conure named Dufus and the other is a cockatiel named Oscar.  Oscar’s cool, but his beak is really sharp and he bites sometimes.

 

 

Dufus is another story.  I tried to get a picture of him for this entry, but he kept moving.  He was nibbling my ear and rubbing himself in my hair.  Sun conures are beautiful.  Just like the colors of autumn, Dufus is a bright yellow, orangey-red with bright green spots and bright green wings and tail.  He has a yellow furry “house” in his cage and when he’s in there, you can hardly see him.

 

Te other thing about Dufus is he loves me.  Not like a dog would love me of course, but love all the same.  He comes out of his little house to greet me, sometimes when he’s already gone to bed for the night.  He waits for me to stick my fingers in the cage for kisses and head scratching.

 

Andrea has hermit crabs.  Or at least I think she still has one.  We bought her two. She was very excited about them at first, but Stripe outgrew his shell while we were away overnight, climbed out and died in the water dish.  What a stink.  Her room still smells all right, so Goldie may still be alive.  I think she may be hibernating or moving only when we aren’t around.  Don’t ask how we know their sex – we don’t.  Andrea wanted a “he” and a “she” so there you are.

 

Anyway, back to the puppy.  I used to have Pomeranians.  They are cute, jumpy, dancey, yippy little dogs, but so devoted.  I just adored them.  They even got along pretty well with the kids.  They were smart enough to hide when they’d had enough.  My last one, a black named Teddy, died about 3 years ago.  He was 12 years old.  Just crawled under a bush and went to sleep.  Man!  I loved that little dog.

 

On the ranch, we had a number of mixed breed dogs.  We had a shepherd named Dancer, a poodle named Pepe (he died under suspicious circumstances) and 3 little dogs.  Freckles was aptly named and the sweetest of the smaller dogs.  The little males were Dudley and Bandit.  We found Bandit trying to get someone to adopt him near the Calimax market.  I fell.

 

Dudley was Robert’s dog, although everyone seemed to love him.  He fathered Freckles’ children and we never had trouble finding them homes.  Good thing, too, because we’d have been feeding more dogs than children.  He is a short, black, wiry-haired terrier kind of dog.  His front legs are kind of crooked, as if he had arthritis or something so his gait is a little strange.  He would hop-skip-trot everywhere he went.  Kind of made him look happy or spunky.

 

Dudley was also a fierce protector of our ranch.  Any dog within miles better think twice before entering.  When we first moved to the ranch, there were lots of stray dogs running around.  We had a barbed wire fence, but that didn’t deter them from coming in to make “deposits” on our freshly raked dirt.  Robert would go out every morning with his slingshot to discourage them.  He didn’t actually hit them, but the sound of a rock or marble whizzing by was enough to set them on a run.  And

Dudley would follow, barking his meanest until they were out of sight.  He didn’t care how big they were.  This got him into some trouble because he was quite the scrapper.  He got his neck and shoulder ripped open (I thought he was going to die), his hip torn and one ear was split right down the middle.  Now when he limp-trots, his ear has a kind of scissor action.  It’s funny.

 

When we left, Jon and Arlene inherited our dogs and brought their own.  Theirs were two Chihuahuas and a couple of mutts. One of the Chi’s  is their son’s dog, though I doubt now he’ll ever take her back.  Her name is Minnie and she and Dudley fell in love.  I think it has something to do with that special perfume she was wearing.  Dudley had no concern about his years with Freckles.  Minnie was the new queen.  Now Minnie has puppies

 

All of this to get me a puppy!  I asked Robert and he frowned at me.  I can’t describe the look, but if you’re married, you’ve probably seen it a time or two.  He wanted to know how it would get here.  I told him not to worry; I wouldn’t go to Mexico to get it.  He looked like he was ready to give in.  He’s happier when I’m happy.  Next was to approach Hank.  After all, it’s his house.

 

We were eating a wonderful meal that I cooked.  Hank is a bachelor, though engaged forever (another story) and loves home cooked meals.  We were watching football and Hank decided we should save the bones for the dog across the street.  He said, “I was going to get a dog, but Debbie said not until her cat dies.”  My opening!!!

 

“How about one that leaves when we do?”  I asked. Hank shrugged, nodded and Robert grinned at me.  Don’t you see?  The puppy, Dudley's progeny, was meant to come.  I just know it.  It was all too easy.  Divine intervention!

 

Imagine: a half-Chihuahua with an attitude . . .