“Dogs come into our lives to teach us about love, they depart to teach us about loss. A new dog never replaces an old dog. It merely expands the heart.”
I haven't posted in this space for nearly four years. It's well past time to again take the plunge, rest my hands on a keyboard and stare at a blank screen.
My inspiration? We are once again joining the ranks of dog owners; I want to chronicle this next chapter in our lives.
Sky passed away almost a year and a half ago. Micah is six years old and ready to make boyhood memories starring a dog. I'm ready to train another bird dog. Erin is . . . ready? If nothing else, life is about to get interesting.
I'm going to try and capture our journey in words and images in this blog.
(Admit it; after reading that last sentence you are having painful memories of my tedious Civil War-inspired Arbonne cleanse Facebook posts. You cringe at the thought of frequent posts about things you care little about clogging your newsfeed. I DON'T BLAME YOU).
But please hear me out; you are reading this which means that you are one of the two or three people who read this blog. I ask that you please consider encouraging me to continue writing my drivel--I need the push to maintain my commitment. You can ignore all future posts. I promise not to look at my site analytics! I won't even know you've stopped reading! I won't realize that I am literally writing to myself in a public online diary!
Back to the matter at hand.
The dog who is entering our lives is currently the size of a pea in his mother's belly. He has no name. It will be a bit of time before he runs into our lives.
I have been referring to him as Russ or Rusty. I admit this is not a particularly inspiring-sounding name. He will be coming to us from Russet River Vizslas. Given his pedigree and color of his coat, I think Russ or Rusty is a fine name, if nothing more than a placeholder until greater inspiration strikes.
Future pup comes from a distinguished line of Vizslas. His kennel name and nickname need to reflect that.
For comparison purposes, Sky's full name was Waterstrike's Rambling Rose Sky.
Sky's name nicely and neatly paid homage to her Sire, Dam and kennel, resulting in a quick, unique nickname. This is the way it's supposed to work.
So if the pup's full name becomes something like Russet River's Jewels Magnumson, Russ feels pretty on point to me.
However, I now find myself fighting off the well-formed opinions of a strong-willed six year old boy.
"Dad! Let's call the puppy Ty!"
Why?
"Because it's a good name and it sounds cool and he's going to run fast and catch birds and Ty is SUCH a cool name!"
Never argue with a six year old.
So, we have names to debate, dog stuff to buy, and a future life to get adjusted to. It's going to be great.
I am inserting myself and my family into this story; now I just need to write my way out of it.
One last thing; I have landed on a name for this story, but haven't figured out if the boy in the title is me, or Micah, or perhaps a reference to both of us.
I guess we'll find out. Like I said, I have to write my way out of this.
Stay tuned.
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