We’ve finally figured out the practical advantage of Winnie’s soft curly hair.
Aside from the fact that it doesn’t shed, is wonderful to the touch, and is relatively easy to comb burrs out of, he was going to need a shearling parka.
Winne LOVES the snow and spends as much time as he can cultivating that “sugar-frosted puppy” look.
Apparently, one of the most fun parts of wearing confectioners sugar is how easily it can be removed when the time comes. It appears that the trick is to start the shimmy from the front…
… and let the ripple effect work its magic towards the rear of the enterprise.
The technique is almost 100% effective.
Almost.
Excuse me. I must go hose down the camera lens now.
Remember how we gave such great thought to what we should name this little pootz before he came to us?
In their helpful book, “The Art of Raising a Puppy,” the monks of New Skete Monastery devote a full five paragraphs on the serious undertaking of naming your puppy, thus our grave deliberations in the weeks prior to picking up poocher from the rescue saints.
And I quoth: “We should select names that speak to a dog as a dog yet respect her own dignity and uniqueness.” They suggest short, two-syllable names that are easy for the pup to understand and for you to pronounce, and are clearly distinguishable from obedience commands. Also, they recommend avoiding “… excessively sweet or joke names totally inappropriate for a dog. Dogs are remarkably intuitive; they sense when they are being made fun of or when they are the objects of suffocating sentimentality.”
All right, then.
Given the breed, we anticipated our standard poodle puppy would, at minimum, grow into a big dog and would need a name that could carry the weight.
Check.
At five months, the dog weighs 45 pounds and–surprise!–is chin-level with the bathroom counter while on all fours. Because of Rick’s previous experience with the breed, however, we did have a few expectations beyond bulk.
He would be highly intelligent and constantly attuned to the presence and needs of his people, often going first (if permitted) on border patrol.
He would move through our lives with grace and a confident inquisitiveness…
… yet be companionable…
… good-natured…
… and noble with an air of natural authority.
We named him “Winston.”
And then we watched a few episodes of the TV show, “The Dog Whisperer” with Cesar Millan, noting the sharp hissing “sstt!” noise he makes when rebuking a dog. As in, “Hi there, good buddy WinSSTTon!”
Talk about your mixed messages.
Yup… Every time we called our dog by name, we were accidentally making a noise that, apparently, translates into “BAD DOG!”
Perhaps the monks and Cesar should hang out for an afternoon and share tips before they write their respective next books. Or maybe they could just co-host a TV show called, “The Dog N’ Chanters.”
Anyways, we’ve shifted to “Winnie,” which is more dog-friendly and an actual nick-name for those named “Winston.”
And, as it turns out, it’s perfectly apt for this incredible gift to our family: caught mid-hop, you can clearly see that we’ve been blessed with the living incarnation of the legendary Golden Bear of Kansas, Pooh-style.
I forgot to mention that they come with a set of built-in puppy pooper-outters: two black labs, names a’ Harry, the Senior, and Pablo, the Patient.
At just over two years old, Pablo isn’t much more than a pup himself, which means he was the perfect host to Winnie last weekend.
He’s not only completely good-natured and playful…
… he lives in an intensely glossy black coat, punctuated by the most incredible almond-shaped amber eyes this side of Rivendell. Honestly, you have to be careful when making eye contact with this animal: too long a gaze, and you feel your bones starting to dissolve.
Fortunately, Pablo mostly stays on the move.
Good thing.
He can chase as well as he leads.
Pablo is willing to share, and he knows some secrets…
… like aerobatics, for instance.
Who knew McNuggets could fly?
Harry, the Senior, spent most of the visit trying to stay one corner ahead of the furry vortex, preferring the company of other more civil and silver companions.
They said Pablo missed Winnie when we left.
Really? We thought he might’ve worn out his welcome..
… but we’re hoping the only thing worn out was Pablo.
