Never Say Never

 

I never wanted a dog. If someone had predicted a year ago that there would be a dog living in my house today, I would have laughed hysterically, and called the person crazy. Yet as I write this, my eight month old puppy, Levi, is sound asleep on our living room floor.

So how did we end up with a puppy? It's a long story. I'll just say that someone I trusted suggested that it might be a good thing for our family. I said I'd consider it. Then, another wise friend agreed that a puppy might be a good addition to our family. Even though I thought our family was complete, I said I'd consider adding a puppy to the mix.

Why didn't I ever want a dog? Well, for starters, to me, dogs were smelly, outdoor farm animals.

Growing up, there was always at least one dog on the farm. The first dog I remember having was a collie named Sport. I only remember him after his "accident". One morning, the milk truck came to empty our bulk tank full of fresh milk. Sport was lying in the way. The driver didn't see him, and ran over one of his hind legs, breaking it. The story I remember is that a cast was put on the leg. But it was put on too tightly, and the leg ended up needing to be amputated. So the Sport that I remember was 3-legged Sport. But missing a leg never slowed him down. He still ran around the farm like he owned the place. But I was never close to Sport. To me, he wasn't a pet. He was just another farm animal. And yet, when Sport died a few years later, I remember crying about it. I also remember wondering why I was crying over a dog I didn't really even care for.


Daisy
 

The next farm dogs I recall were Daisy and her puppy, Wiggles. I have no idea what breed of dog they were. They were very small compared to the other dogs we usually had. I remember Wiggles being a hyper little puppy who ran in circles for several minutes at a time, chasing his tail.

Oscar and Tony on the lawn swing

Tony (aka Evil Knievel) and Mike

Next came Frosty and Cinnamon. They were mutts that someone dumped out in the country. Some how they ended up at the farm and we kept them. As you can probably guess, Frosty was white and Cinnamon was, well, cinnamon colored. Perfect names for them. But after watching awards shows on TV, my brother Mike, decided to change their names to Oscar and Tony. Why the rest of us didn't fight the new names, I have no idea. I do recall Mike doing stupid pet tricks with those two dogs. He would position them on the mini bikes or on the swing set. I was then in charge of taking pictures. (I know that only half of Tony is visible on the lawn swing picture. But hey, I was only 9 when I took the picture. And this was way back in the old days when we used film instead of digital cameras!)

Then there was Okie. Okie was brought to the farm by one of my dad's relatives. Okie was the wildest dog I ever met. He liked to harass the chickens on the farm. OK, harass might be an understatement. One morning, Mike woke up and walked outside to find a dead chicken in the yard. Then another. He quickly picked them up, thinking no one would notice a few missing chickens. But he kept finding more and more dead chickens, and realized there was no hiding it. I can't remember if it was 17 or 32 dead chickens found that morning. But I do remember that Okie didn't have too many more mornings on the farm.

My brother Mike later bought a coon hound puppy named Sniffer. I remember going along to pick him up. We put him in a cardboard box for the ride home. Good thing since Sniffer threw up an entire dill pickle on the ride home. I still wonder how that little pup got ahold of a dill pickle and swallowed it whole.

Over the years, several other dogs called our farm "home" at different times. Some were hunting dogs, others were mutts. Many of them chased vehicles that drove by the farm. Some nipped at strangers who came into the yard. I never felt any real attachment to any of those dogs. They were always outside or barn dogs. They weren't allowed inside the house.

When my dad's cousin, Bernice, visited from New Mexico, her dogs came along. They were inside dogs. While Mother didn't like the idea, she, of course, let the dogs stay in the house. 




Maggie giving Evan a kiss
 

When my oldest sister, Kathy, got an indoor dog named Bandit, things changed. Bandit was allowed in the house when Kathy visited. After Bandit died, Kathy got a Jack Russell Terrier named Maggie. Maggie quickly learned that if she sat and looked up at my mom, she would be rewarded with pieces of whatever delicious human food my mom happened to be eating. Maggie loved the bits of toast and cookies that she could con my mom into giving her.  Once, Kathy even caught Mother feeding Maggie lasagna off of a spoon.

Ruby

But I still wasn't a dog person. Our kids begged for years to get a dog, but I wouldn't budge. Three years ago, our next door neighbors got a chocolate lab puppy. Ruby is adorable and I have loved her from the minute I met her. And it was perfect having a cute puppy next door that I wasn't responsible for. Still, a dog was never going to live in our house.




Well, when the kids heard that I was actually considering getting a puppy, I think they knew what to do. They started making promises that they'd clean their rooms, pick up after the puppy every time it pooped so that I would never have to, they'd take the puppy for walks, feed it, love it, never fight with each other again and eat all their vegetables.  OK, I may have made up those last two, but you get the idea.



Levi on the day we first met him

The kids pictured a puppy to snuggle with. I pictured a backyard full of dog poop. They imagined a best friend with fur. I imagined our furniture covered in fur. They wanted a golden retriever. I didn't want a dog at all. Honestly, the only positive I could see in getting a dog was that I wouldn't have to sweep the kitchen as often, since I knew a dog would clean the floor for me.

But since I agreed to "consider it", we did a little research and learned that golden retrievers are good family dogs. We bought the book Golden Retrievers for Dummies. We read about picking out the right puppy for our family. We looked at ads for puppies.  We made an appointment to see 5 week old golden retriever puppies. We told the kids we were just looking. When we walked into the house with the puppies, there was a distinct dog smell. But when I saw the tiny little puppies, the smell seemed to magically evaporate. They were adorable little pups, scampering around the kitchen. One puppy found his way over to Danielle. He was the runt and his face had a little different shape than the others. Dani instantly fell in love with him. The same puppy found it's way to Lauren and Evan too. They were equally smitten.  I held him and had to admit he was cute. When the owners put food in the bowl for the puppies, this puppy lingered behind the others. Then he jumped on top of his brothers and sisters and got his little face into the bowl as well.  As we left, we told the breeders that we'd let them know if we were interested. They told us to let them know soon, as some of the puppies were already spoken for. But the runt, who had chosen our kids, was still available.

On the ride home, the conversation turned to what we would name the puppy, if we got him. After a few crazy suggestions from the kids, I commented that maybe a biblical name would be nice. Evan then suggested the name Jesus. I could just picture myself yelling out the back door to a naughty puppy, "Jesus Christ, get in here now!" That certainly would have entertained the neighbors. I started naming off the books of the bible aloud: "Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus....hmm....what about Levi?" One by one, the kids all agreed that they liked the name Levi. It is rare for our kids to agree on anything that quickly, so when they did, the puppy had his name. Just one problem....I still didn't want a dog!

I was caving into the idea of a puppy, and I knew it. After a few days, Eric and I agreed that we would in fact buy this puppy. Eric drove to the breeders and put money down to save the little runt for us. We waited a while to tell the kids though. Heck, they were on their best behavior those days, trying to convince us that they would keep all those promises they made. Why would we ruin it by telling them we were getting the puppy?

We set the day we'd pick up Levi for a Friday that the kids had off school. But then Eric and I decided that it would actually work better for us to get him a week earlier. We didn't tell the kids and after sending them to school for the day, we jumped in the car to go and pick up the new addition to the family. On the drive there, I kept repeating out loud, "I don't like dogs. I don't want a puppy." Even I didn't believe those words any more. I did feel a little bad taking Levi away from his mom and dad. But I knew he was going to a good home. It admittedly was a home that was clueless about puppies, but it was a good home. I held the pup on my lap for over an hour as Eric drove home. Levi kept yawning right in my face. I never before knew how horrible puppy breath was! We got home, came into the house and within 10 minutes, Levi pooped under the kitchen table. Oh Lord, what was I thinking?


Come along with me as I relay the lessons our little bundle of fur has been teaching us. ~ Kim



Levi, sound asleep shortly after arriving at his forever home