Back in January, I wrote a column called “The ImportantThings.” I ended by saying, “We’ve got clean underwear and a bit o’ quiet, and
that is important and enough for now while I wonder what will bubble to the
forefront of 2015’s other important things."
When I wrote that, I was excited about the new year and what
it might hold. I didn’t realize how important a youthful dog in the house was
for me until my three year old labradoodle died weeks later. A number of Idaho State Journal readers have
approached me with condolences since I talked of Bob’s passing, so I feel
compared to share. We got a puppy!
On the first of February, instead of settling into the Super
Bowl and 10,000 calories of pizza, Doritos, and a courtesy carrot stick, my
girlfriend and I grabbed some apples and Cliff bars and drove to Boise. We
found a breeder online who had one female puppy left from a Christmas litter.
We wanted a male, so we didn’t jump right away, but I just kept thinking that
with all of her litter mates having gone home weeks before, she must have been
waiting for us. And she was.
I wore my favorite ninja turtle hoodie and we arrived at the
breeder’s home after they got out of church. Right as we met the puppy, a pre-teen
girl walked into the living room and shouted, “I love your sweatshirt!” The
whole family is fans of the ninja turtles and the mom told us her nickname
while growing up was “Turtle.” Needless to say, we are now Facebook friends and
enjoy sharing our love of turtles and pups across the state.
As the Patriots squeaked by with the Super Bowl win over
Seattle, we brought that 10-week old goldendoodle puppy home. Her name is Lynda
Carter. I’ve always wanted to name a pet
after the actress who played Wonder Woman—2015 was the year!
A goldendoodle is a crossbreed of a poodle and a golden
retriever. Lynda Carter’s dad is a
standard poodle and her mom is a first generation golden doodle, meaning her
grandmother on her maternal side was a golden retriever and her grandfather was
a poodle. Are you following her family tree here? In other words, Lynda Carter
is 25 percent golden retriever and 75 percent standard poodle. She’s on her way to being 60 pounds of
mischief and delight.
Since Lynda Carter is a puppy and in trouble most of the time,
I use her full name most of the time. It’s a bit of a mouthful, and sometimes I
feel silly walking her around Holt Arena with firm and curt shouts of “Lynda
Carter, heel!” I imagine that’s how parents of Alexander’s and Elizabeth’s
feel.
It brings me joy when the secretary at the vet’s office
says, “Hi. We are calling to confirm Lynda Carter’s appointment.” They use her
full name, too. It’s so sweet how they cater to the crazy animal lover in
me. They were the ones who watched me
sob when Bob died, so I imagine my rekindled smile brings them a little joy,
too.
Lynda Carter has required a lot of work. Training her and
molding her into a solid companion and good canine citizen is important to me.
It’s probably as important as clean underwear, and it’s proving to be more
important than establishing the stillness and quiet I need to write.
Businesses and executives often use the phrase “shifting
focus” when they assume new strategies or undertake new jobs, and my own focus has
shifted greatly with Lynda Carter’s arrival.
I continually think in prose and I have hundreds of columns unwritten in
my head that I hope to share one day, but the wonder pup is stealing every
second of spare time right along with my shoes, socks and underwear. She chews
and poos with no attention to my plans, and when I don’t meet her demands, she
targets her puppy power toward the poor cat Phil.
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