So, tonight Yishai comes by to pick Moto up, and then he, Rippa, and Moto head south. Moto will be on a red eye to New Jersey and wake up in time to meet his new family, Alina and Sam - and be a Pesach puppy for them as he will have his first Passover Seder with them. Yishai goes off to his parents' house with Rippa for the same. I'll have Fury, Rexy, and my roommate (my other one has left for six months to be a smoke-jumping wilderness firefighter). It's gonna be a really lonely couple of days.
Yishai and I have spent the last couple days kinda "mourning" Moto. Looking at him, saying how beautiful and wonderful he is, but going, "It's better for him and us if he goes to this new home." Alina is over the moon. I never was. But Moto is a sweet puppy and it's hard not to admit I got pretty attached. I've been a lot more worried about how Yishai's going to handle it - Moto and he connected a long time ago, and he probably would have picked Moto if not for my heavy campaigning for him to pick a female so I wouldn't have to deal with intact male issues with Fury (who I am not planning on fixing). This all makes me feel really bad, specifically because as a kid, I remember an incident that's burned in my heart forever:
This woman had just gotten into showing in conformation but her dog wasn't as "nice" as he could be for that venue. Still, dutifully, husband and wife would go to shows and try their best. I really liked the husband a lot. He was gentle and sweet and handsome (and yes, in a lot of ways, like Yishai). Overtime, she decided or was convinced (I can't remember which, I was probably 13-14) that their dog was never going to finish and if she really wanted to keep doing this, she was going to need to get another dog.
Normally, people just get another dog.
But for some reason, they decided to rehome him. I remember the day when the exchange took place. And I remember the husband just crying and crying. Eventually they got divorced and I always felt for the husband. I'm sure it wasn't over the dog, but I think that anyone who is willing to rehome their family dog because they got a new hobby is probably not very considerate of other people - especially not soulful types.
So, every time I catch Yishai looking at Moto and his eyes look a little far off, I worry. When I decided I needed to place him, I made sure Yishai was okay with it, but it still hurts a little to know how he feels. I feel somewhat the same. It's definitely different than placing the other puppies who were long-promised when I had them. Yishai even bought Moto a matching collar like Rippa's. He's always commenting on what good friends they are.
But here's the thing: I don't need another dog. Fury and I have plenty to do with one another. Moto is a sweet boy, but he's not really what I want to work with (he's softer than I'm used to and I am not so good at handling soft dogs), and my living situation just isn't right for it. I tried a few years ago to fully commit to the "dog lifestyle" but it shook out that I was more committed to my current one of adventures and altruism (read, not making enough money and always giving it away) and building companies and living in suburbia with my friends. Not prime dog-lady material.
And at this point, it's definitely too late to go back. When I talked to Alina the first time, I felt like I was going to break her heart when I decided a stockdog puppy out of Fury was too much for a first-time dog owner. Now that she's sent money, Amy and I have made her go out and get books and supplies, and she's willing to get up VERY early to go get her puppy in Philadelphia tomorrow, there's no going back. Our hearts would simply not hurt as much as hers and Sam's.
And that's how I know I did the right thing by homing him.
It's funny. I started out like, "No, these are stockdog puppies and I am hardcore and they are hardcore and I will place them as such." It's kind of like tail docking. It's great in theory until they are your precious, perfect babies, and all the theories go out the window. (This is especially poignant because Moto has the longest tail out of everyone - I picked him to do first because he was big and if anything happened, I figured he had a better chance at survival. Rippa's is the shortest because she was the last.) None of my dogs went to "stockdog" homes. They went to homes where they'll get trained on stock. Some might get trialled. I am hoping one or two or three get a WTCh. But all of them are spoiled rotten, well on their way to family love-dogs, and you know, I am okay with that. More than okay. Moto almost had a home on a ranch but I decided he was too needy to live in a kennel his whole life after living here in our living room (and now he sleeps in my bedroom).
So, today is a Moto day. I have things I need to get done, but he is currently bopping around in my room as I write this and Fury and he are wrestling. I'm charging up my camera so I can take a barage of photos, and I'll cry when Yishai takes him. (Okay, let's admit it, I've already cried a few times.) I'll probably cry when he puts him on the flight, too (I think Yishai is going to have a VERY hard time doing this, also). But I will cry with delight when I hear from Alina tomorrow morning. She's promised to become extended family and send lots of photos. Yishai keeps saying he'll never see him again and I've promised we can make a trip out to see the puppies sometime (both homes are already amenable). We'll be okay.
And now Yishai's talking about how maybe one day we should have another Ben/Fury litter.
In Other News
Yishai and I had to go promote his events at a triathlon put on by the college here, so I decided that bringing puppies was an excellent way to (a) attract people to our booth and (b) socialize them. So we had a field day at Lake Lopez. Enjoy!
In the morning:
The puppies share Fury's crate when they stay in my room. I don't know if you can see it, but Moto has his arm around Rippa.
The night before:
We got to the race area at 6:15 am, and it was freezing. The puppies were pretty tired from bopping around all night and not so happy about waking up at 5 am to get going. Sleepy. So, when the tri started, Yishai and I took them down to watch the action. I tell you - you ever feel invisible in the world? Get yourself a fuzzy Aussie pup.
Dog walk?
And then in race director nerdiness, Yishai puts a chip timer on Rippa:
And then gets then to go over the mat.
This was a nice thing to do for the puppies for many reasons:
Most of the volunteers were Grizzly Academy students, so it was nice to give troubled teens some puppy lovin'. I didn't get photos but the guys got to enjoy the puppies after the race as we were packing up. Puppies running free amongst them, looking for cookies and cuddles. :)
By the time the race was over, all the playing around, the loud announcing and whatever had sacked the puppies out. People were kinda bummed that they couldn't really interact with them, but I took it as a good thing that they were able to sleep through poking and noise and be happy all the same.
So tiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiired:
And then Yishai suggested, after we packed up, that we should take them to the lake to swim.
So people are always thinking the puppies are minis for some reason, even without a Fury escort. I started asking people why. Yishai had to sit me down and tell them that the tone I use when I ask makes them feel stupid. And he admitted he did the same thing when they ask about Rippa (he's been very well educated, you should hear him talk about Aussies, colors, etc) but he realizes it's not their fault. So, yeah, sorry folks I've offended, I was just wondering WHY THE HELL YOU CAN'T TELL THEY ARE PUPPIES!
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