Chaos & Clarity

When I was a kid, I wasn’t allowed to have a dog.  My parents had a variety of practical reasons, but none, in my young opinion, was convincing enough to justify an outright denial of this most basic childhood desire.

They did try to appease my strong proclivity for pets with a menagerie of city-friendly rodents, birds, and fish, including some very cool homing pigeons and a brief stint with a live turkey that was walked on a leash.  But my dog-desire never waned.

Before the ink dried on the P&S of my first home, I contacted a breeder who would fulfill my long-awaited dream of owning a dog.  The rest is history, as they say.  I haven’t been dog-less since.

Enter my newest friend, Ivy.

Regular readers will recall that convincing Husband to step back into dog ownership after the loss of a previous one takes work.  He is understandably nervous about the responsibility and commitment involved – especially for a puppy.  But with four relentless voices in the house and a coup by some fellow dog-loving friends, Husband caved to the cutest Christmas present ever!

We arrived at the shelter as the doors opened, hoping for first dibs.  We narrowly succeeded.  As we stooped to greet our would-be pup, another interested party arrived and scooped her up, claiming “This is the one.”  Principessa jumped up from her seat on the floor with a sound that can only be described as a primal growl.  Her posture was so aggressive, her demeanor so intimidating, that for a moment, even I was afraid of her.  After several agonizing seconds of this stare-down, the woman conceded and set the pup down at a safe distance from my 17-year old daughter-turned-werewolf.

It was love at first sight…and bite.  Ivy is a nippy little thing at 10 weeks old.  She’s receiving an obscene amount of love, attention and training at the hands of five adoring fans.

We are, perhaps, a bit too alarmist in light of the sudden and tragic loss of our previous dog.  When husband spotted a tick on Ivy’s fur and mistakenly said ‘flea,’ the scene erupted like a ‘code 2319’ in Monsters Inc. when George had to be decontaminated because he had a sock stuck to his back.

Then we had the ‘bloody toenail’ that turned out to be a piece of candy cane.  And the undue panic over a pile of dog vomit.  What can I say?  We love her and want to protect her.  Any mother will attest to the very real and imagined dangers that lurk in the shadows of her mind, waiting to pounce on her baby when she lets her guard down.

This is exactly what happened when two neighboring Labradors broke loose and crossed the street.  In a split second, Ivy was scooped into the mouth of the bigger one and tossed into the air.  It was a frantic scene of paws and leashes, arms and legs, trying to separate the dogs.  Despite the worrisome howling and shaking, Ivy recovered without any wounds.  It will take her humans a bit longer to heal.

For better or for worse, Ivy is ours, and we couldn’t be happier.   Already, in one short week, she has wiggled her way into our hearts and filled our home with joy.  As dogs do, she gives far more than she takes, proving once again that the journey of life is sweeter when traveled with a dog.