Yesterday the lady who normally answers the phones for the entire place was out sick and it is in our contract that somebody from our company will cover if she is out. I get here early, so I went to the desk at the correct time until someone else showed up to relieve me. While there I got my hands on the local paper. It is mostly crap, but there was a big article on my Gators, so I read it.
I then perused the Classifieds, because, well, I want a puppy. Our pal, Chance, died on Jan 2, 2005. We have grieved for him. But now it is time for a new family member. I have felt this way since last summer, but DSD was not ready to commit. Plus, we were in the middle of wedding planning, honeymoon planning, etc, so the timing didn't feel right. I hinted this would be a wonderful Christmas gift, then a wonderful birthday gift, but no dice.
So I was reading the Pets for Sale section. I have considered numerous breeds, but had not settled on one. The family was against what I call 'purse dogs,' maltese, yorkie, poodle, and they call 'rats.' But I did not want another 85 pounder either. (Chance was a mutt, but he looked like a Bull Mastiff. We were really lucky he was only 80-85 pounds.) So I spotted an add for a Labradoodle, 12 weeks old. I don't know a lot about this hybrid, but I called anyway and got all the information.
She is actually 13 weeks old as of Monday. The Mom's owner was planning to keep her, but now she (the owner) has gotten a promotion and will be moving and she can't take both dogs with her. She (the puppy) is already crate trained, leash trained and will sit upon command. She was the runt and the vet estimated the largest of the litter will be about 50 lbs, so she should be smaller, but still big enough to wrestle with. I almost fainted, she sounded so perfect.
I called DSD who was shopping for televisions for work (not a bad job if you can get it) with the boss, who happens to be his best friend. DSD told Jack (with an eye roll, I am certain) that I wanted a labradoo-something or other. Jack said, "Those are fantastic dogs!" DSD was a little annoyed.
So I rushed home after work, cleaned up the house that was neglected over the weekend, fixed some weird cheesy pasta thing for dinner that he had been wanting to try (third pasta meal in a row, because DSD LOVES pasta) and had a drink waiting for him when he walked in the door. (The first 2 pasta meals were to thank him for taking such good care of me, this one was blatant ass kissing). And then I (and BabyBoy) threw the sad eyes at him. And brought up pictures of adorable labradoodle puppies and talked about how smart they are and how funny they are and how they either don't shed or they shed much much less than other dogs.
And he caved like a house of cards.
Of course, BabyBoy and I got the "this is not my dog and you have to take care of it" speech. Which was justified, because I babysat a friend's 2 dogs for a month last summer and DSD got stuck doing most of the work.
So I am picking her up this afternoon, after a trip to the store to pick up all those wonderful things that a new puppy needs!
Her name is Lola.
And my behind is feeling almost normal. I go for a follow up tomorrow.