We’re getting a pug puppy! A little female pug puppy. I can’t begin to tell you how excited I am. It’s been a long time since Steve and I had pets. Both of us grew up in families with dogs, and for many years, our life together included kitties. We were on the go a lot, and kitties fit our lifestyle. At one time during our marriage, we actually had three cats. Our last kitty was Zuske, a beautiful Persian; she was twenty years old when we finally had her put down. That was four years ago, and I am still grieving. I was Zuske’s person. If you’re a pet owner, you know what I mean. But then I began longing for another pet. Something other than a kitty. My heart can’t open to another kitty, not after Zuske. But maybe a dog? I started noticing pugs. They’re a smaller breed, with little squished faces that put me in mind of the Persian cats we’ve known and loved. And once I started researching, I was smitten! Pugs are known for being super friendly, cuddly dogs… the couch potatoes of the canine world. With Steve and me being such homebodies, a little pug sounded perfect and exactly what we needed.
My next task? Convincing Steve.
The first time I mentioned us getting a puppy, I was met with a flat out NO. That was nearly one year ago, and I’ve slowly been working on winning him over. I expected some initial grief, and it’s understandable, given Steve's physical limitations and ongoing stability issues. “A puppy? Are you crazy?” he said when I first floated the idea. He told me that a puppy (even a big dog) might be a “trip hazard.” I counterargued by reminding Steve that his tall sturdy walker has a good grip, great brakes, and provides him with something to hold on to. Not to mention, Steve and his walker got along just fine with our kitties. No trip hazard there.
You know the game Elf on the Shelf? Well, one day while out shopping, I saw a little pug stuffed animal. Sold! I named her Lola, and set her on Steve's place mat the next morning. He didn't say a word. The following morning, she showed up sitting in his pill basket. "Hrmph," he grumbled. The
next day, she was hanging on his chair. He rolled his eyes. But he's learned to tolerate Lola, and she's now a regular in our dining room.
“A puppy would make a great birthday present,” I told him. Steve often laments the double gift-giving whammy of my birthday and Christmas being merely twelve days apart. I figured if I offered the price of the puppy in lieu of a birthday gift, he might be more agreeable to the idea. “For your birthday?” Steve scoffed. “With how much it’s going to cost me, that puppy will be your birthday, Christmas, Valentine’s Day and Easter present, too!”
“I’ll let you name it,” I offered (knowing full well that we wouldn’t use any name which didn't win my full approval; after all, the puppy would be my birthday present, not his!) At the time, Steve happened to be reading a book about Great Britain during WWII. “Winston,” he said without missing a beat. “We’ll name him after Winston Churchill.” Okay, I’ll admit that Winston’s a great name... but there’s only one problem. “Who said this puppy is going to be a male?” I asked. Steve paused, then relented. “Okay, a female, and we’ll name her Winnie. That’s a good compromise, don’t you think?”
Oh how gorgeous for you, I know what you mean about cats having a person. Our Dusty’s person is my husband David, I’m only the one who feeds and cleans her littler tray. All,our other cats have had me as a person, but David is Dusty’s. Look forward to seeing pictures when she arrives! Greetings from Australia- Janine xx