When we last left off with the puppy story, I could hardly contain my excitement. It was like waiting for a new baby to come home. On Friday night, we drove to the little town in North Carolina right across the state line where the breeder lived. There were about 11 dachshunds in her back yard having a great time barking at my family. Upon entering the “pup” area of the home, I looked down in her kennel and noticed a few things.
- The pups were much smaller than the photos led me to believe. Wow.
- There was so much cuteness in one area I wanted to pass out.
- I was in trouble. I wanted them all.
- I thought they were all sold, but as it turns out, they were not.
Okay, so the last one happened as we bent to pick up the little girl…the owner mentioned she was back on the market for sale as the deal had fallen through. My girls loved the boy and the girl. Of course, we were already in love with Jameson, the boy. But then we saw this:
Don’t be fooled by that look in her eye. She is the sweetest thing ever and she is smaller than my slipper. And no, I don’t have feet as big as that woman in the movie Deuce Bigalow. Anyway, an internal struggle was going on inside and I wanted to cry. How could I rip this little family apart? I couldn’t. I took one look at my husband’s face and he said get her. Quite simply, that man knows my heart. I melted. After 15 years, he can read me like a book.
Soooo, on the way home with not one, but two puppies, we discussed her new name. I like what the owner called her, but then, out of the mouths of babes came the most perfect name. Juliet, for my heart was hers, and parting would have been such sweet sorrow. I’ll hand you a tissue now…or a vomit bag. Whichever you prefer. Ha.
