And we are again an empty nest.

So I am sitting here in my room after a fairly sleepless night (thanks Rippa) and the silence is overwhelming. Daca was a very easy puppy to live with. Polite, sweet, very affectionate. The space of her absence is huge. But I am stoked that she's not here anymore. If she comes back, fine, but this morning it was just me, Yishai, Rippa and Fury and that felt right. We sat out on the porch and had breakfast and Rippa barked at the neighbor's lab and then ran back to us until Yishai went over there to show her it was no big deal. Peaceful.

So basically, we drove up to San Juan Bautista yesterday to check out Kay Spencer's (from WorkingAussieSource.org) new sheep co-op setup and help her finish out a fence. We were supposed to get there at noon, but had to run a couple errands, and then as soon as we got on the highway, Fury started whining something awful. I always think she's just being annoying for some reason, but she never is - she had a huge bout of poop awesomeness in my truck as we drove up the grade. Stop, clean it out, feel crappy for Fury. (I do this at night sometimes, she has diarrhea and is waking me up and i think she's being annoying so she goes on my floor when I tell her to go away.) I don't know why I do that - she is never annoying for no reason.

On the road again and then there's traffic.

Just outside King City, the puppies get into a serious brawl over I have no idea what and Yishai goes to stop it and gets his thumb bit up pretty badly. Now he's in pain, and we have to stop at Rite Aid to fix it up. And then there's traffic.

And then . . . Fury does it again. She starts whining and I am like, "No way does she have to pee/poo again."

Way. So we pull over in a gas station to clean that off, too.

And all this is happening and I just start crying because I like to feel guilty about stuff and like to look for bad omens in strings of bad luck (though I know I should stop it).  Yishai's all torn up, the puppies fight, I'm not paying the right kind of attention to Fury and what have I done? Yishai tells me he knows better than to stick his hand in there and it's not the puppies' fault (and they are all happy with each other once again), and I made a beautiful litter of six wonderful puppies and to chill out.

But this is an omen. We should just give up now. We're already an hour late.

But we get there and there's Kay and the Sibleys all waiting. They're excited to see Daca, but just letting her out in the hubbub is not the best way to do it, so we go out to Kay's pens and they each take her for a walk until she is no longer worried about where her breeder family is and is taking pets and commands from them.

They introduce her to their dog (at my insistence, away from me - as I think a lot of it has to do with protection instinct of me) and that goes okay. Kay impresses me with her knowledge of dog behavior as she starts explaining how Daca's facial postures show her level of anxiety and she's right on.

I feel like I have spent about two hours stressing the absolute negatives of this puppy and what she is going to be like. How she will be wonderful with them but probably not always with strangers and I can't guarantee she'll totally come out of her fear aggression. How they'll need to keep her on leash and work really hard with her - Yishai interjects that she is going to need piles of exercise - and Kay tells her that they will have to protect her from others because she is so cute but needs space.

The Sibleys currently have a show-line dog who reminds me a lot a lot a lot of my old dog, actually.

Rocky, the Sibleys' dog:

Dusty, my late dog:

She is a totally different animal from their current gal. Shelly Hollen was very kind to cross-post my ad for Daca on Facebook and that's how they found her. She told me they are a fabulous home and good with working with problems.

So, we all stood around for a while and Lisa suggested they take her on a trial. Now, I wasn't planning on this. I had not really thought how this would go. Being me, I assumed it would go like how all the other homes would go - they would take one look at her initial reaction (which is either barking at them or being indifferent) and not really be excited about it. I didn't remember to pack her crate or food or anything in case this happened. Yishai brought his crate so we could keep the puppies up if we were working Fury, but beyond that . . . nope, no clue this would happen. So I said, "Yeah, okay, after checking in with Yishai."

The night before, I talked to a woman in Missouri who sounds exactly like the kind of home I wanted for all the puppies when I bred them - working cattle ranch but also looking for a pet and possibly a breeding dog - but only with my guidance as to who to go with since she wasn't involved in that end of things. But she's in Missouri, hasn't had an Aussie before, and that was as much a wildcard as anything else. I told Yishai I would defer to him. He has been absolutely the co-breeder on this litter and has had a lot of success with working with Daca. He asked me to give the Sibleys a try.

So, we packed her up and said our goodbyes.

I am feeling pretty bad because the woman in Missouri was positive she wanted her but I had to see this through and I came home to a lot of stoked emails about her. The good thing is, if Daca isn't a fit, she has a home no matter what - and both homes are primarily interested in loving her, which, for Daca, is a must.

And I still maintain that finding homes is like dating. See, this is why I don't date two guys at once. Being with Yishai has taught me that your initial inclinations toward someone could be totally wrong. If you told me I'd end up with him eight years ago when I met him after kind of insulting his plywood gym on the Internet, I'd have laughed you right out of town. It's the nuances.

So now we'll just see how things go. I am so glad that there are some people out there with the time and resources to love on her and work with her. My decision to place her is a solid one. Yishai's destroyed thumb can attest to that. It was only going to get worse.

But I miss her. We all do.