August 22, 2007

• I'd like to introduce y'all to the newest member of our family.
  If
  you've read the Harry Potter books, you'll be familiar with Hagrid, the
  tender-hearted half-giant, Harry's staunch friend and defender.
  Hagrid
  is a perfect name for our new dog, who is going to be OUR
  tender-hearted staunch friend and defender — and who's without a doubt
  going to be BIG.
  Yes, sir, he's going to be big. REAL big.

  

  He's a....gulp....Great Dane.
  Yeah, I know. It makes absolutely no sense. Logic did not enter into this decision.
  Why, you may ask, did Doyle and I decide to get a Great Dane?
  Eccentricity
  is the only answer I can come up with. Eccentricity is a personality
  trait highly treasured in the South, and Southern people are allowed to
  get more eccentric as they get older.
  Our 16-year-old white
  terrier, Scooter, who had been Doyle's friend and companion for many
  more years than I have been, died earlier this summer. It’s taken a
  little while for us to get to the point that we’re ready to get another
  dog.
  And of course, we still have Darnit Kitty, aka "Roscoe: the Cat
  Who Tried to Kill Me." Remember last spring when he pulled me down my
  front steps and I broke my arm?
  I've grown quite fond of Roscoe, but
  being a Dog Person is inscribed into my genetic code.  And my husband
  loves all creatures, great and small.

  

  This weekend started out
  innocently enough. On Saturday morning, Doyle and I had a leisurely
  breakfast at the Townhouse Cafe, then stopped at a couple of yard
  sales. We were headed back home when it happened. Doyle said, "We've
  got to turn around and go back to that yard sale back there."
  "Why? What'd you see?"
  "A sign that said 'AKC registered Great Dane puppies for sale.'"
  I'm thinking, "He's got to be kidding."
  We
  were delighted to see, running around happily in the midst of the yard
  sale merchandise, two mostly black BIG puppies. Gorgeous, sweet
  puppies. They both immediately ran over to me with tails wagging to be
  petted, and one licked my hand very politely.
  Doyle got the owner's name and phone number, and we drove away.
  I
  thought they were adorable dogs, but didn't even really consider one
  for us. We live in a small house without a fenced backyard. In town.
  On
  our way home, Doyle said, in a serious voice, "I wouldn't let myself
  pet them, because I knew if I did, there was no way we'd be driving
  away without one."
  It began to dawn on me that my husband REALLY wanted a Great Dane.
  We
  talked about it off and on all night. Doyle confessed that he's always
  harbored a secret longing for a Great Dane. We went to sleep Saturday
  night talking about how neat it would be to have one, what wonderful
  pets we'd always heard they made, and how in the world we could adjust
  our lives to having a huge creature in the family.
  Sunday morning, Doyle called the Great Danes' owner and left her a message. She called back late Sunday afternoon.
  Five
  minutes later, we were headed south into gorgeous Newton County, and
  ended up at a doggie wonderland. A 100-year-old log house, with a yard
  full of dogs and two nice people.
  We left there about 45 minutes
  later with lots of good advice and AKC papers. Doyle was driving, and I
  had my arms and lap full of puppy. We were both grinning from ear to
  ear.
  Hagrid snuggled down into my lap and went to sleep, making
  little soft, gentle growly sounds like a baby lion. We were both
  hopelessly in love with this 25-pound infant before we crossed the
  Boone County line.
  Fast forward to 2 a.m. We're asleep in our
  king-sized bed...Doyle and me, and Hagrid's in the middle. In all my 51
  years, I've never let an animal sleep in the bed with me. But this
  over-sized, 10-week old baby puppy cried and cried and cried in his
  crate, missing his mama and his 10 brothers and sisters, for so long,
  that I finally decided to let him out for a few minutes. He immediately
  ran over to my side of the bed, stood up with his gigantic feet on the
  quilt, and looked at us like, "There you are. I'm not all alone after
  all."
  Doyle, who would let every animal in the house sleep with us
  every night if he could, laughed at me and said he couldn't believe I
  was letting a dog sleep with us.
  I'm writing this Tuesday night,
  sitting in our big striped armchair with my laptop on my lap, and a
  Great Dane lying on the floor at my feet -- well, actually, he's lying
  ON my bare feet. He slept in his crate like a big boy last night, and
  is learning fast how to walk on a leash by our sides.
  Yes, Hagrid
  the Great Dane is going to eat a huge amount of food, and he's going to
  take up a lot of room in our house -- but I can already tell he's going
  to take up even more room in our hearts.
  By Celia DeWoody
  Published Aug. 22, 2007, Harrison Daily Times
  Copyright CPI, Inc., 2007
  
  

  • 7:03 pm
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