Protagitron Dead From Cute: The Shetland Invasion

I like dogs. I like dogs a lot. When I was younger, I used to harrass my parents pretty much daily for a dog. From a breeder, from the "Free Puppies" signs tacked up on telephone posts, or from the Humane Society- it didn't matter. Raised on a steady diet of Lassie, Benji, Old Yeller, Where the Red Fern Grows and the Dog Who Wouldn't Be, I was sure that no kid's life was complete without a loyal, loving dog. I tried to explain to my parents that it was a safety issue- with out a dog, I was clearly in danger of drowning at best or being crushed by an overturned tractor at worst. It finally worked, but the family was split: my brother wanted a Golden Retriever, I wanted a Rough Collie, my dad wanted a Wheaten Terrier, and my Mom wanted No Dog. Eventually we compromised on a Sheltie, and ended up with the much loved Brydie, who died two years ago. My dad took her death pretty heard- he spent the most time with her. She listened to him when his hormonal daughter, and equally hormonal wife were having a screaming fight in the kitchen. She would lay next to him when he was sick. She would sleep next to his clothes when he was away instead of sleeping with another person, namely myself. Finally, this year we either wore him down or he was finally ready to get another dog, so we went to Brydie's breeder to see her new puppies. And our new dog will hopefully be one of these:

And if I have my way, it will be the one on the far right with the white spot. He licked my fingers, he liked me, and that white spot on his back is illegally cute. I've already come up with a name for the wee bugger: Smitty. After Betty Nesmith, the inventor of White-Out. I would post a better picture, but these little guys are only three weeks old, and still take some time to open their eyes and focus them, so I tried taking a few without the flash so as not to blind the little things, and a bunch didn't turn out well. It was my Dad's camera too, so I wasn't sure how to adjust the aperture or what- it felt like shooting with a disposable camera since I knew NOTHING. There were some older puppies too, and this sable merle was my absolute favorite out of all the puppies. Sure, he looks like a little angel sleeping there, but he has spunk. After finding my jeans were not easily removed from my body, he tried to work on my sock, gave up, and went to play with his stuffed Animal from the Muppets. He tried for success once more after that, but decided licking my face was just as good. His future owners have already named him Copper, but he looks more like a Bogart to me. It's a good thing more people don't let me name their dogs, or else eventually we would end up with a pair of poor, lonely goldfish named Lillian and Dorothy Fish.


Well, I'll be back to Montreal and university next week. No puppies there, but I'll try and teach my degu some tricks.