My parent's dog Nikki died not too long ago. She was a sweet dog, about 10 years old, who developed cancer in her shoulder. The vet told them it would only get worse and cause her more pain. She'd already been limping for a few months before they finally got it properly diagnosed (a different vet told them it was an infection in her paw... boy was he wrong) so they decided to just put her down and end her suffering. It broke my heart, but that was the best thing for her.
My parents are getting along in their years, both in the mid 60's, and neither one thought they'd get another dog in their lifetime, but (a) Nikki was their third Alaskan Malamute so they're clearly attached to the breed, (b) the previous one lived to be 14, and (c) they didn't expect to lose Nikki so soon. They thought they had a few more years with her.
So after the heart-wrenching way in which she left (limping one day with an infection that they hoped would clear up, to being gone the next because of cancer) they decided to get one more Malamute. They found a breeder in Kansas City who had a new litter and went down to pick one out. They found two they liked and had to decide between them. They brought home little Abby last week.
Meanwhile, K and I, sad at the loss of Nikki, finally decided to break down and get a dog of our own. I have always wanted a Malamute (as I said, my parents had three that I loved very much), but they're a lot of work, very head strong, and not something I felt K was up to, particularly with all of that fur that they shed constantly. So I suggested we go down to a pound and pick one out, just a mutt who looked like something we could handle and love. After all, G was a pound kitty, and there's something quite satisfying about rescuing an animal from a shelter.
K, on her own, got in touch with my Dad and said, "What about that other dog?" Between the two of them, they contacted the breeder and inquired about shipping. When she told me about it, she had already made up her mind. She didn't just want any dog. She wanted a Malamute. She wanted me to have one like I had growing up, and it make it all the nicer that we were getting Abby's litter-mate.
We picked her up from the airport yesterday. She was a little terrified from being in a crate for 10 hours and stuck on two different planes. She was a little hungry and thirsty and wasn't too sure who these two people were fawning all over her.
We spent the afternoon on the back deck getting to know her - close to the yard just in case. She spent the evening teaching us that puppies don't adhere to household rules. She's worked her way into our hearts already with those big eyes and big paws. She's going to be a big girl. Dad estimates she'll be a little small for a Malamute (based on the fact that her paws are smaller than Abby's) but still about 75 pounds.
I'm sure there will be more to this story, but for now here are some pictures to give you an idea of what we have in store for us.
Her full name, by the way, is Beatrix Kiddo. Bragging rights to the first person who recognizes the name. Without Googling.
4 comments:
That is one cute little puppy.
Somehow, considering the people who tend to read this, I don't think you'll have too much of a problem getting anyone to recognize the name. Though, perhaps you should dress her in a yellow track suit just to make sure.
She sure is a cute little puppy
Congratulations! It must be the year of the dog for getting pets. LA and C picked up a pound pup for the boys a couple of weeks ago. Abby and BB are lucky dogs. I look forward to more pics.
She is absolutely adorable - congratulations. I'm also really looking forward to reading the tales of destruction - it will make me feel better about the racetrack in our backyard.
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