This past Sunday I had another complication added to my case of puppy fever. A good friend of ours who has an aging German Shepherd decided to get a puppy from the same breeder that we are getting our puppy from. The litter of puppies that she’s getting hers from is now five weeks old, so she was going up to see them and decide for sure which puppy she wants. Since we had been there before, she invited Mr. Taleteller and I to go with them. I can’t lie, there was not even an ounce of coercion required to get me to go, even when I found out that we’d have to leave at oh dark thirty.
We had a good time chatting with our friend and her husband on the drive up. Driving early on a Sunday morning also meant that we had very little traffic to contend with on our drive up, which was an added bonus and got us there quite a bit early. We met Ms. Breeder and introductions were made, and she was happy to see us along with our friend, which made me feel even better about our choice with her.
Then we were off to the backyard, otherwise known as Puppy Heaven. In a matter of minutes, the puppies were out of their pen and swarming our feet. At five weeks old, their personalities were really starting to show. I knelt down to take pictures of all that fuzz and cuteness and found myself swarmed, so I handed the camera off to Mr. Taleteller. I mean, really, I couldn’t get good pictures with all those puppies piling up under my feet, could I? The only decent thing to do was to pet them all.
Our friend had a pretty strong idea about which puppy she wanted and when she met him, I could see the magic happen. I knew that no other puppies need apply, and I’m not sure I saw her pick up another one. He spent his time charming her, sleeping in her arms or chasing after his mother when she came out to meet our friends. She’s shutting the puppies and their sharp little teeth off the milk bar, but the puppies haven’t read that memo yet. She was very sweet and patient with them, and also a very pretty girl.
After talking with Ms. Breeder for a while and getting our fill of the puppies, she asked us if we’d like to look at our litter. They’re still too small for us to handle them, but she said she’d gladly hold them up for us. It was music to my ears. No way was I missing the chance to see them, and they were just starting to open their eyes. They still mostly look like guinea pigs, but they were adorable nonetheless.
I will admit that I have preferences in the litter, but if I say which one I want, I am sure that Mr. Hard-Hearted, ahem, Mr. Taleteller, will choose a different one. I tried asking him what he thought of them. “They look like puppies,” was the brief reply. The man is made of stone, I tell you. Yes, I know, they’re too small to know their personalities yet, but really, would it kill the man to be a little excited about them after inhaling all that puppy breath outside?
The good news is that Luka, our friend’s new puppy, will be ready to go home in two weeks. That coincides with our litter of puppies being old enough to meet and, hopefully, finally make a decision on. So, we’re invited to go back with them to pick up their puppy and meet ours. After that, the countdown will be on until the little fuzzball comes home with us. Can you smell the puppy breath?