puppies

Need Some Distraction – ND #99

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Rawhide Offering – Photo: L. Weikel

Need Some Distraction

I do believe the four legged creatures with whom I share my life are realizing that I (and perhaps you) need some distraction from the world at large. To that end, we can all give Brutus and Pacha – and the ever-suffering Tigger – our sincere appreciation.

Who knows what I was going to write about tonight. It’s a mystery. If I did have an idea, it flew out the window when, the moment I sat down and opened my laptop, Brutus jumped up and accosted Tigger, who was snoozing on the back of the couch.

“Tigger? Do you like it?” – Photo: L. Weikel

Don’t get me wrong. It was not an aggressive assault, but rather an enthusiastic one. One that could only be perpetrated by a puppy who’s loved and abided patiently by the elders in the household. Especially Tigger.

When I realized what was being played out before my wondering eyes, I tried my best to capture the saga with my iPhone. The problem with that is the sad fact that these puppies have grown up with an iPhone in my hand, and I swear they stop what they’re doing as soon as they see it. Or they look the other way. Or they move from the adorable position I’ve found them in and immediately pretend to be doing something else.

They’re devil dogs!

 

Brutus: Play With Me!

Over the past week or so, Brutus has become adamant about wanting – no, needing – to play in the evening when Karl and I are both in the process of folding our tents. There have been a few times recently when he has hopped on the couch and presented a squeaky toy literally in my face when I’ve dozed off watching a program. It’s a new phase that I hope he grows out of quickly.

I’m selfishly relieved, however, to see that he’s extending his gambit of frivolity to the feline kingdom as well. How he manages not to get scratched silly, I can only chalk up to remarkable fortitude and patience on Tigger’s part.

Tonight’s effort was a spontaneous sharing of the braided rawhide chew toy I gave to the pups this morning in order to distract them from demolishing a pair of Karl’s reading glasses. He hopped onto the couch and dumped it on Tigger’s back.

Tigger ignored him. What braided rawhide?

Pacha coyly flirted with him from the seat of the couch. “I like the look of that braid, Tigger,” she growled softly. Tigger didn’t bite. Instead, he gave Pacha a baleful glance and returned to the dreamtime.

“Give me strength.” – Photo: L. Weikel

 

Brutus brought yet another offering – this time one of their favorite squeaky toys.

Tigger feigned sleep.

“Need some distraction? How ’bout this one? I LOVE this one!” Photo: L. Weikel

Undaunted, Brutus brought yet another chew toy from across the room and dropped it on Tigger’s side. Nothing.

I wondered how long this was going to last and thought Brutus might start burying Tigger with his and his sister’s vast collection of squeakers and chew toys. But no. Moments later, he became bored and – as puppies and toddlers are wont to do – pretty much dropped in his tracks and fell asleep.

And that’s what I intend to do as well.

(T+99)

Witness – ND #43

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Tigger enjoying a few tender moments alone – Photo: L. Weikel

Most Treasured

It’s funny. I keep trying to jump-start this post by declaring what I refuse to write about for a third night in a row. For once, I really wanted to witness victory being snatched from the jaws of all-but-certain defeat. But it was not meant to be. Apparently we really are going to have to live out the nightmare of watching our country’s most treasured and revered foundational concepts crumble before our eyes, mostly because people simply cannot wrap their heads around the fact that this ‘really could happen’ in the United States.

So tonight I’m just going to keep it light.

Cuteness Prevails

Take Tigger, for example. According to the adoption papers we received when he was rescued years ago by my son and his then girlfriend (now wife), he’s starting to get up there in years. In fact, I think he may be 16 years old or so.

Tigger is by far the most patient of all our animals, but especially the most patient of our felines. He was the first to welcome the pups with open paws, and he endures relentless acts of butt-sniffing and puppy-tackles on a daily basis. It’s rare for him to lash out at either pup. Indeed, the only times I’ve ever seen him hiss or retaliate in any form were when they either took him utterly by surprise or, not surprisingly, when they simply refused to knock off their antics after too many tumbles or nips.

As many of my photos attest, the pups tend to be hogs when it comes to nestling in front of the fire. Once they’ve outgrown puppyhood, I’m pretty sure they’ll welcome cuddling with the felines – or perhaps I should say the cats may decide it’s safe to snuggle with them. But in the meantime, they swing from one end of the spectrum (as bundles of effervescent energy) to another (dead-weight, snoring, lights-out immovable lumps) in the blink of an eye. Consequently, the cats are finding languishing fireside to be an indulgence they rarely experience.

And so it was adorable earlier today when I discovered Tigger snatching a few zzzz’s hearthside, sharing the pet pillow with one of the pups’ favorite toys: the Fox. (The pups were asleep in their crate; I forget why.)

“MY Fox” – Photo: L. Weikel

Melts My Heart

It’s moments like these that melt my heart. Tigger, as old as he is, still plays like a frisky kitten – when the mood strikes him. Usually the mood hits when I’m making our bed. He mrrrows and arches his back, hops sideways and tackles my hand when I’m smoothing out the comforter. He’s hilarious. But I also watch him as he observes the mad scrambles of Pacha and Brutus when I throw their toy (the Fox, again, being a favorite) and they race to bring it back to me.

If it weren’t below his dignity, I actually think he’d be tempted to race after the toy himself and triumphantly bring it back to me. Or at the very least, jump on it and fling it a couple of times.

He just jumped up on the couch and mrrrowed to me. “Time for bed, Mommy.”

So now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to forget about the sad state of our country and go snuggle with my Tiggery.

(T+43)

Be-Bopping Around – ND #16

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Escher Pups, Be-Bopping Around – Photo: L. Weikel

Be-Bopping Around

Depending upon how organized you are, when you read this post you may or may not have ahead of you at least another half day’s worth of be-bopping around to pick up last minute meal fixin’s or find that final phantom gift that just refuses to ‘click’ into place. Others of you will probably be engaging in the extravaganza of final wrapping. It’s even possible some will be baking or similarly engaged. I’m happy to encourage you to think I’ll be draped beside the fireplace reading a book and sipping a cup of rum-laced nog.

Yeah. I’m sure none of you fell for that fantasy. I’ll tell you what, though. Just re-reading it made me chuckle at the picture it painted in my head. It might even qualify as Crone Porn. Although, come to think of it, it’s probably more a form of Mother-of-Four-Under-the-age-of-10 Porn.

When I think back to my 30s and 40s, I don’t know how I managed to stay upright during the six week sprint from Thanksgiving through New Years. And now with everything more heightened and intense – and I do mean everything – I can’t imagine how exhausting it must be to be a parent.

I just hope by 3:00 p.m. or so tomorrow everyone will be very close to unplugging from it all.

OK, by 5:00, then. Man, you drive a hard bargain.

It’s a Test

To determine whether or not you’re stretched too thin and desperately need to break away from all the pressures and expectations, you need to look carefully at the puppy photo at the top of this post. What do you see? Are you sure?

I call this my Escher-Puppies. It’s a bit mind-twisty. Where does one begin and another end?

 

The Rehabilitation

As a person who feels responsible for maintaining a healthy connection with and between all of you, I cannot in good conscience leave you with the Escher Pups as your final image for the day. Thus I bestow upon you the great gobs of cuteness below.

If you’re feeling uptight or stressed out, look at this photo. Now imagine a Christmas-themed photo and maybe you’ll dream tomorrow’s post into being. (No, I did NOT take them to see Santa. I barely did that with my kids. There’s no way I’d do that to my pups.)

And besides, we all know and admit we’re suckers for puppy pictures. It’s the least I could do for all you holiday warriors.

P.S.: Tonight/tomorrow is our final exact Saturn square Uranus aspect. Woohoo! Let’s sit back and watch what happens.

Great Gobs of Cuteness – Photo: L. Weikel

(T+16)

Pupdate – ND #1

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 4 Comments
Bigger Helpers (Tonight!) – Photo: L. Weikel

It just feels wrong not to write. At the very least, I must yield to the unspoken but palpable need I feel emanating from many of you for a pupdate.

After all, we shared the loss of Sheila. A year later, we collectively mourned the sudden loss of Spartacus. And then I disclosed the dream in which Spartacus showed up and told me – no, directed me – to get another puppy. I confessed how he placed his paw on my arm, looked into my eyes, and said, “You need me.”

I regaled you with the astonishing (and yet not) synchronicity of our Sarah finding a listing for Boston Terrier puppies and how they’d only become old enough to be adopted the very same day I was awakened by that dream. And then…well, we all know what happened next. Karl and I drove all the way across the state and became smitten with the littlest guy in the litter and his only sister.

No, they don’t always sleep, but… – Photo: L. Weikel

Love Triumphed

I think it’s fair to say you shared our heartbreak. And knowing this, perhaps weirdly, I was a little afraid to disclose welcoming these new additions into our family so soon after losing Spartacus. Although we searched our hearts and contemplated our motives, we – or more accurately I, since I’m the one with the relationship with all of you – worried our somewhat impulsive adoption might seem disloyal to Spartacus and Sheila.

I wondered if I should just keep the arrival of our new babies to ourselves.

But as all of you know, love triumphed. On some level, these puppies – Pacha and Brutus – are our collective healing balm. I trusted the internal nudging I received to write about our newest additions to our family. I decided sharing the joy was worth risking being judged.

They do 4 miles like pros now – Photo: L. Weikel

Simple Pleasures

Goodness knows, we’ve shared an exorbitant amount of collective trauma. The past three years have in many ways been like a roller coaster ride through the inside of a House of Horrors. From the personal to the national to the planetary level we’ve been dodging and catching some major body blows. And we took them as a community. Upon reflection, though, I’d say we shared some pretty cool stuff as well.

The truth is, puppies and kittens, regardless of age, make us smile. They remind us of life’s simple pleasures. If we’re lucky enough to have them in our lives, we know the indescribable feeling of being on the receiving end of unconditional love. (We know which species is usually more adept at conveying it, at least un-self-consciously.) And if we’re unable to have them in our lives at the moment, we can share the love vicariously. It’s a fact.

So here I am. Sharing the love. (And missing you.)

Check these puppies out.

Snuggling – Photo: L. Weikel

(T+1)

Diversity – Day 1095

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Brutus eyeing me up while Pacha pokes a caterpillar – Photo: L. Weikel

Diversity

It’s amazing to me how siblings can have the same parents and yet have utterly divergent personalities and proclivities. I guess it shouldn’t surprise me, though – not when I consider the nature of my work and the things I’ve seen. But the astonishing diversity of life’s expression, whether it be human or animal, always holds a certain mystery.

Pacha and Brutus have been bringing this concept home for me lately. I know they are litter-mates. I saw their brothers (Pacha was the only female of the lot), and I played with their parents. And while they didn’t seem like clones of each other, you could definitely tell they were all playful and loved.

Right off the bat, though, Brutus wanted to be cuddled. He practically ran into my lap when I crouched down to sit cross-legged on the family’s front lawn. And while he couldn’t resist popping up and scurrying around to tumble and tug with his siblings, he would occasionally (and endearingly) touch base with me by running back and hopping into my lap again.

Pumpkin Scarfer

Pacha, on the other hand, seemed intent on ripping into a slightly smashed pumpkin that was under a bench at the side of the yard. She furtively snuffled her little piggy snout into the soft orange flesh and clearly relished scarfing it up. She joined in on the sibling tumbles too – and made a point of currying favor with Karl – but she was also definitely more independent.

Carrying that attitude forward, she continues to be a free-thinker. She eschews the limits we place on her and gives us the paw at every opportunity.

Most recently, she’s begun bending into a ‘down dog’ yogic position and barking at me when I call to her and ask/coax/command her to ‘come’ to me. A most defiant little pup. Not to worry; I’ve spoken to some who know what they’re doing – and I’m cautiously optimistic that she’ll soon realize I’m a bigger dog than she is. But it does make me wonder at their seemingly almost opposite personalities.

Puppy Pile (Pacha on top) – Photo: L. Weikel

Unique

Ultimately, we’re all unique. Only some of the diversity of our ‘selves’ can be explained by genetics. At least that’s my opinion. Yes, genes can combine in a vast array of different sequences, all creating different combinations of characteristics, etc. But I also think there’s something to be said for the individuality of our souls. And yes, I do believe animals have souls. They may not be quite the same as human souls, but there is something there when you look into an animal’s eyes that has a distinct essence to it that goes beyond skin, bones, and brain function.

I’m just scratching the surface of what I think about sometimes when I watch these pups interact with us, each other, and the other beings that inhabit this household.

But for now, all I’m saying is, there’s a reason why sometimes there may seem to be more photos of Brutus than there are of Pacha. He hangs around with me and gives me more photo-ops. Pacha would rather be out raiding a pumpkin patch or gnawing bark off our maple tree. (Sigh.) Or just giving me the paw.

Brutie helping me bake a Carol’s Chocolate Cake – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-16)

Stuff I Forgot – Day 1079

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Playful Pup – Photo: L. Weikel

Stuff I Forgot

You knew it would happen – or probably could’ve guessed. (Yes, yes; I know.) I knew it would be an effort. And there would be days fraught with challenges. But we did it 17 years ago! We were still a bustling household with two sons still living at home. Soccer games, musicals, all sorts of extra-curricular activities dominated our time. I was commuting to Philadelphia back then, for heaven’s sake; and traveling to The Netherlands for training. We even did it again four years later. Ooooh, but there was stuff I forgot.

I’d say mostly it’s the little stuff. But there are some bigger things too. The bigger things are all mostly associated with the adrenaline that floods my system when I see Pacha bolting after the ever elusive Cletus, ignoring every single, “Come!” I may shout.

Cletus likes to act like the Pied Piper and lead the puppies into the small patch of woods beside our garage. I swear he’s doing it on purpose, and sometimes I wonder if his intentions are even more nefarious than just getting them lost or yelled at.

Pacha tuckered out after our walk – Photo: L. Weikel

Big Stuff

I’d say most of the big stuff I sweat has to do with Pacha and Brutus’s safety, which of course is directly tied to their lack of discipline. We’ve been diligently working with them to at least get the basics down: Come; sit; stay.

Sadly, it seems some days I’m the one who needs to re-learn these commands, because it feels like we’re going backwards. For instance, when we first brought them home, the pups came to us all the time. They responded to, “Come!” like rock stars. Now? Not only don’t they come; they run in the other direction.

(And no, we don’t chase them. But sometimes we do feel like we’re the fools.)

Indeed, Pacha in particular has quite the sassy attitude. She literally talks back when I’m trying to train her to do something. I don’t know if she thinks I’m joking around or if she just thinks she looks cute getting into the classic yoga position of ‘down dog,’ her butt high in the air.

Their response to “Sit,” is fairly consistent. And I have to admit, on today’s walk they were pleasingly obedient when we told them to get “over” and “sit” when a car approached.

Little Stuff

And then there’s the ‘little stuff.’ Such as? Such as trying to figure out what to do when the puppies are encountering their first thunderstorm, with its attendant copious amounts of rain.

While they both sat up straight, roused from sleepy reverie when they heard their first crack of thunder (here at our house, anyway), they did not act fearful. OK, they may have burrowed a little deeper into their snuggles, but overall, they didn’t tremble or whine or act inordinately fearful.

But a good example of the small stuff to which I’m referring is getting them to do their business when it’s raining. Oh my goodness. Even without rain falling on their short, sensitive Boston Terrier coats, they often have to be coaxed to come down off the porch a minimum of six times (at least) before they’ll leave a deposit and make it ‘all clear’ for us to head to bed. But now that it’s raining?

Not. Happening.

It’s not like they’re so well trained about going to the bathroom outside to begin with. But adding the rain seems to be the death knell to progress on that score. They look at me and, quite literally, I feel like they’re both saying, “Why in the world would we do anything outside when we can do it in here, in this warm and dry indoor climate, and you just clean it up?” I suppose they have a point.

Growing All the Time

They’re still babies. And we’re still new parents (again), trying to remember how strict we were ‘back in the day’ to have caused Sheila to be as good a girl as she was, in spite of how busy we were.

Something tells me Sheila never talked back with anything near the intensity of Pacha. And I think she always jubilantly responded when we said, “Come.” Ultimately, though? I have faith in our process together.

And darn it if their cuteness doesn’t make up for a multitude of sins.

How do I get anything written? – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-32)

Cold Snap – Day 1071

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Cold Snap – Brutus & Pacha’s First Jackets – Photo: L. Weikel

Cold Snap

Yesterday afternoon’s wild line of storms that barged through our area ushered in an entirely new season. We’re now navigating some deliciously brisk fall weather! In fact, I’d almost go as far as to say we’re enjoying the first cold snap of the season. And let me tell you: there are two short-haired Boston Terrier puppies who take serious umbrage at this turn of events!

Pacha and Brutus are utterly worn out this evening. The sudden change in seasons wears us all out, pups. We humans can relate; at least I know the two-leggeds you’ve chosen to live with can.

Watching their reaction to the sudden shift in temperatures was fascinating. It started last night. Trying to get them to tinkle outside when it was not only raining but the temperature had dropped 30 degrees or so was, umm, frustrating. They obviously wanted no part of that nonsense.

Both of them immediately headed back onto the porch, demanding immediate re-entry into the warm (dry) house. It was a test of wills. Back and forth. Again and again. I have to give it to them (especially Pacha): they are stubborn. Ultimately, I’d say it was a draw, which isn’t exactly the best outcome, but oh well.

Sheila: Mother of a Grand Tradition of Warmth – Photo: L. Weikel

This Shivering

Oh my, let me tell you. The shivering we witnessed today! As it is, they’re tiny and adorable little Beings. But when they start trembling and looking up at you with those irresistible puppy eyes? Putty. You turn to putty. Naturally, lap time was essential.

I was quickly dispatched to locate some appropriate fall weather fashions to keep these sensitive loves warm. Sheila and Spartacus had long since grown out of any puppy-sized sweaters or coats. In fact, we walked so often and so religiously that they wore out most of their clothing. Spartacus was definitely wearing some threadbare ensembles last year.

The other day, Pacha balked at wearing a harness that required her to put her head through a loop. (Brutus couldn’t care less.) I was surprised to find a harness for her that just allows her to step into it. No over-the-head stuff involved. (Wow, these dogs are spoiled. Sheila and Spartacus never had so many options.)

I was wondering, then, how they would react to putting on a ‘coat.’ Suffice it to say, there was no need. In true Boston Terrier fashion, they took to these fleece jackets like ducks to water. Not a single struggle or whimper; indeed, both fell deeply asleep as soon as they got warm and cozy.

Bottom Line

The ultimate take-away from this experience so far is that donning warm fleece jackets may be just the ticket to lulling two little puppies to sleep.

Can you imagine how hard they’re going to fall for the fireplace? I suspect that’s when we’re going to see some major inter-species snuggling (and vying for the best spots in front of the hearth).

Every day holds a new adventure. Thanks for sharing them with us!

 

(T-40)

Sprinkle – Day 1068

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
Work of Sky Art – Photo: L. Weikel

Sprinkle

Falling asleep again at my keyboard tonight. I hate it when I do that. Maybe it’s to be expected, though, when you don’t turn off your bedside light until 2:00 a.m. Then toss in a few mornings (including today’s) of sleepy, face-licking puppies needing to be taken out to sprinkle the yard.

I’ve been trying to be a zealot over taking the pups outside to do their thing. And yet…there just seems to be something not connecting with them. We’ve tried rewarding with praise and coaxing with trainer treats. If we pick them up and take them outside, they’ll go willingly enough. It’s the independent realization that they need to go – and they need to go outside – that we’re still waiting to have click into place.

We tried putting a puppy pad down when we first brought them home. Brutus shredded that sucker faster than you could say, “Go pee-pee!”

Perhaps we’ll rent a carpet cleaner this weekend and ‘start fresh.’ That might end up being the best option.

Keep your fingers crossed for us that we get this resolved relatively quickly.

Easter egg colors – Photo: L. Weikel

Return to the Sky

While the pups have taken a number of walks already (short spurts for them, then getting carried most of the way), I managed to take a walk by myself today. I have to marvel at the difference it makes to have to literally carry an extra six pounds (or 12 if I’m carrying both of them) any distance. If that isn’t incentive to lose that extra ten pounds of Covid weight, I don’t know what is.

I hope everyone got a chance to spend at least a chunk of time outside today. It was definitely one of ‘those’ days. You know: the type that makes you swear God(dess) must wear a beret and clench a paintbrush between her teeth. (Between her teeth?) The artistry and flair I witnessed tonight was breathtaking.

The striations of pink, purple, and chartreuse in these clouds were not your normal rainbow. And the evolution of the clouds as they formed and reformed today told stories upon stories, if only I could decipher them.

I’ve missed encountering clouds that are blog-worthy.

Here’s a PachaPig fix – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-43)

Am I Bad? – Day 1065

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Brutus inspiring a blog post – Photo: L. Weikel

Am I Bad?

Ok, you guys. Am I bad? We all know there are only 46 posts left for me to write before I reach my magic goal of 1111 consecutive entries; my 1111 Devotion. Many of you have been steadfast companions along this journey – giving me incentive to tackle the mountain one step at a time. “Pata y pata,” as the paqos said with sly smiles as Karl and I trekked, step by step, toward a glacial lagoon 14 years ago.

When I ask the question, “Am I bad?” I’m really only acknowledging that the newest members of our family will inevitably benefit all of us – including you, my dear companions on this  trek. I have no doubt that Pacha and Brutus will make the next 46 days exponentially more pleasant for all of us. Why?

Because…PUPPIES. It really is that simple.

PachaPup – aka Bat Girl – Photo: L. Weikel

Transmuting Grief to Joy

There’s nothing like puppy (or kitten) energy to brighten our lives. And let’s face it: we’ve all been through the mill. The past almost three years have whipped us around physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually, if we’re honest. And while I’ve tried to walk my invisible line that wavers between optimism and despair, I’ve also – always – striven for honesty.

I’ve felt some heartaches in the midst of the past 1065 nights that I’ve not shared. You guys don’t need to know every jot and tittle of my emotional landscape. But truth be told, those not shared, or at least alluded to, have been few and far between.

For the most part, I subscribe to the “a joy shared is doubled and a sorrow shared is halved” school of thought. And knowing you are on this journey with me has doubled my joys and halved my sorrows. But wow – I do know some of the sorrows, such as Spartacus’s sudden death, were hard on all of us.

Brutus hangin’ with his Blue Dog squeaky toy – Photo: L. Weikel

A Gift to All of Us

All of which is to say I honestly think the astonishing discovery and adoption of these puppies was a gift to all of us. The infusion of puppy energy into our home was, and is, palpably restorative. The pall that descended upon us at our loss of Spartacus was very nearly overwhelming. And I cannot thank all of you enough for the love and compassion we felt pouring in.

I do believe we’re in for a bunch more ‘stuff’ out there in the tumult of our society. There’s more upheaval coming. But Spartacus was right: I do need him. And I believe we need each other – and (apparently) a double dose of puppy energy – to get us through the next…what? At least the next 46 more days.

After that? I guess we’ll see.

But I promise you this: Brutus, Pacha, and I will provide you with plenty of photos documenting their puppyhood. It’s the least we can do for our friends. While I might be shameless in sharing our new babies, I hope you won’t think I’m too  bad for it.

(T-46)

If a Boston Finds Us – Day 1064

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 8 Comments
Meet PachaPup and Brutus Beefcake – Photo: L. Weikel

If a Boston Finds Us

I had the dream of Spartacus at the first crack of morning light on Monday. While I was diligent and wrote it down as best as I could, I didn’t actually share it with Karl until later that afternoon. It made me too sad to even relate it; the sense of Spartacus being right there beside me was still so acute. When I did read my dream to Karl, though, we agreed to keep an open mind. “If a Boston finds us,” we said to each other, “we’ll pay attention for sure.”

Mind you, maintaining an open mind on this was akin to remaining open to getting struck by lightning twice. Sage and I had stumbled upon Sheila’s litter (only a few miles from our house) when we passed a hand-made sign at the end of a long driveway at the edge of a local road. She was not a kennel-bred dog. She and her litter-mates were raised right there in the living room of the farmhouse they shared with their humans, and where they were born.

We always had a sneaking suspicion that part of the loveliness of Sheila’s personality was due to her having been whelped in a family home. What were the chances  of making such a discovery again, especially since that family had moved away years ago?

Sarah’s Surprise

The very next day, our daughter-in-law Sarah sent me an email about a litter of Bostons she’d discovered in Pennsylvania. I do not think she ever expected me to follow up; I think she was just planting a seed. (She didn’t know about the dream…)

I clicked on the link and couldn’t believe my eyes. Besides the utter adorableness of the puppies themselves, they’d only just turned eight weeks old and become ready to adopt the day before. Yes, the day of my Spartacus dream. And the description of the setting in which they were being raised was exactly what I wanted: a family that loves their Boston Terriers.

I knew I had to at least honor Spart’s message by calling the human mother and discerning more details. Melisa and I spoke for forty-five minutes. The rapport was instantaneous. By the end of our conversation, we’d set up an appointment for Karl and me to meet the litter, as well as both their canine parents and their humans.

Turns out we had to essentially cross the state to get there – but oh my, was the trip worth every single minute.

Brother and Sister

Meet Brutus Beefcake and PachaPup. The ‘runt’ (Brutus’s nickname amongst his humans was “Shrimp”) and the only girl in the litter.

Oh my…what have we done? Details – and lots of photos – to follow. If nothing else, this should make the last stretch of the 1111 Devotion more fun for all of us, hmm?

Sibling Snuggles – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-47)