Happy Birthday, Nyxie! Part II - The Pickup

While sitting down to write the 2nd installment of Nyxie's coming home story, I realized that I had alot to share.  It was a busy, emotional time for our family and one that brings back a ton of memories.  So I'm breaking up the story into a few more manageable parts.  This post is really about her Gotcha Day (March 24, 2007), but I couldn't wait that long to start Part II.  It's a bit different from my normal blog, but I hope you'll enjoy it nonetheless.  Maybe I have the makings of something else entirely here....please let me know what you think  

As you can probably imagine, I was a mess for the rest of that night.  All I could think about was that sweet little puppy and the mischief and joy she'd bring with her.  Would the girls get along with her?  Arwen had never liked any other dogs so we were sure our integration challenge would start with her.  What if we couldn't transition Arwen and Raven over to raw food?  Would the sleeping arrangements work?  Would she potty train easily?  I wanted to get it all right - without any mistakes.  I wanted to be the Victoria Stilwell / Cesar Millan dog-mom of my dreams.  I thought of the puppy breath, the soft ears, the floppy paws and knobby knees.  I was filled with hope and anticipation for the privilege of raising this new, tiny life.

Needless to say, I couldn't play World of Warcraft very effectively and ended up showing everybody Nyxie's  litter pics from the Timber Ridge website.  My friend Sandy, and the only other dog fanatic in the room, confessed that she and her husband, Roland might be adding a new Golden into their pack.  Sandy is one of those wonderful caretakers that truly adores her 2 Goldens, Hannah and Hailey like children.  And soon after, Parker, was welcomed home.

Through all this, Matt tried to tease me about the new puppy, presenting a manly facade to the other guys.  Secretly, though, I knew better.  Finding this perfect pup was a dream come true.  And a chance to start healing some old wounds of loss - both past and future.  He announced that we had to leave early as we had an early start the next day and we said our goodbyes.

On the drive home, we were almost giddy despite the falling sleet.  We talked about training, and introductions, and of hope.  I must've said, "I can't wait until tomorrow" about a hundred times.  And when we got home, I was like a child trying to sleep on Christmas Eve, my heart was pounding.  I tossed and turned.  

The next morning was met with cleaning and puppy-proofing.  We planned our introduction to happen in the spare bedroom, T's bedroom when she would visit us.  It was a neutral place as we rarely let the dogs in there even when she was home.  Time passed sloooooowly.....

It was finally time to pick up our new family member.  We drove to Saco, a town about 20 minutes south of us.  I could scarcely sit still.  As we'd been to the main house previously, we were allowed entry by her pack of gorgeous shepherds.  We rang the bell and Doreen brought out the tiny black pup, wide eyed and curious.  She'd made good on her promise to bathe her, to wash away the brown earth from her fur.  She was shiny, silky and the deepest black of sparkling onyx.  Her brown almond eyes looked questioningly at us as Doreen handed her over.  She sniffed us thoroughly - we smelled nothing like the rich earth, stables and the hay, the smells of Maine.  We smelled of different dogs, of the city and of coffee.

The Matt with then long hair and tiny Nyxie.  Day 1

I can't remember who held her first that day, but I suspect Matt let me hold her, as we'd decided she would ride in his lap while I drove home.  We have this theory that whoever rides home holding the new pup or kitten becomes the tiny creature's favorite.  At least that's what we'd experienced with rescue in the past.  Doreen gave us a wonderful book called Natural Nutrition for Dogs and Cats, The Ultimate Diet  by Kymythy R. Schultze, the pup's AKC paperwork and informational folder, and a large tupperware container full of raw chicken necks.  She also explained to us that our new pup could be returned to her at any point in her life if the need arose.  Her pups were always welcomed home.  What a wonderful testament to the faith she has in her dogs!

And with that, Genie Z Timber Ridge, with ear tattoo # 7TR05, became the newest member of Arwen's Pack.

Part III, The Homecoming to be continued...

Happy Birthday, Nyxie! January 20

Four years ago from yesterday, a black dog named Kelly labored with the strain of delivering a litter of German Shepherd puppies.  She licked them clean, one by one.  She sheltered their little bodies from the frigid Maine winter.  A new year brought with it bright new lives.  They were born under the supervision of a wonderful breeder in Saco, Maine.  Doreen is the owner of Tiber Ridge Farm, a German Shepherd breeder and dog and horse boarder.  Of course, we knew nothing of these events or of Doreen until 9 weeks later.

Matt and I were searching for many months for just the right breeder and dog combination.  Having done German Shepherd rescue in the past and having experienced terrible loss as a result, it had been a long time before we would even consider bringing a new shepherd into our lives.  We were finally ready when we got Raven's cytology results back as positive for lymphoma.  We sadly accepted that her life would be cut short, even while undergoing chemotherapy with the wonderful vets and nurses at Portland Veterinary Specialists.  We could not have asked for a more compassionate medical team.

As the painful realization of losing a pup settled in, it dawned on us that Arwen would be alone.  Her solitude is unbearable.  She has separation anxiety for being alone.  The humans are fine to go, but she can't be alone for long.  Without another dog with her, Arwen quickly begins to drool, pant, and make desperate attempts to get our of her crate, even to the point of self-injury.  What a testament to the importance of "pack".  Our search for another dog intensified.

There's a publication in Maine called the Uncle Henry's.  Imagine Craigslist for a sparsely populated, wild state.  You never know what you'll find when you look through the Uncle Henry's.  I combed the "pets" section, hoping we'd find a puppy that would be a good fit.  Matt sought an all black shepherd rather than a black and tan, so the search was not easy.  With a small child in the house, Matt worried about the predictability of a shelter dog.  I yielded in this argument, as T is his child biologically - Daddy's decision trumped my open-mindedness.

One day, I opened the Uncle Henry's and started my usual search.  There, in black and white, was this ad:

We called and made an appointment to visit.  Just to look.

It was a wet March afternoon when we made the drive "to look" at the puppies at Timber Ridge Farm.  We vowed to wait no matter who or what was there, making plans for later in the evening. We were headed to a LAN party (where a bunch of geeksters load up their computers and converge on a fellow-geekster's home to play World of Warcraft and drink beer for the night).  With computers in tow, no way could we bring a puppy home.  No how, no way.

We exited the Maine Turnpike and followed the directions through residential and increasingly more rural property until we turned down a winding road that eventually became a gravel road.  Crossing a rickety bridge over a frozen creek, we wondered if we'd gone too far.  The land opened up and large farms rolled to our right, leafless forest to our left.  Then we saw the sign and turned down the long driveway.  Our hearts were in our throats.  

We met Doreen at the horse stalls and indoor riding arena, where we were instructed to go first.  Large, sturdy Czech German Shepherds, panting from playing in the mud, accompanied the truck as we pulled in.  The dogs were wary but confident, watching our movements and circling to gather the new scents.  Doreen met us and we talked for a few minutes.  Then is was the moment of truth.  We were told we could drive up to the main house, now that we had met her where the dogs were used to boarders coming in and going, they would allow us to approach the house with more ease.  As soon as we got to the house, the dogs seemed more alert, more guarded.  One of her beautiful males started bringing Matt his toy to throw, as Doreen brought out the pups.  

Sleepy eyed and awkward, two black pups emerged to greet us.  An outgoing, energetic fireball wearing a collar, and a doe-eyed, sleepy naked pup.  The first had been claimed and bought earlier, but was boarding with her former mama and sister.  She was all over us immediately.  A climbing, sniffing, chewing ball of energy.  I was secretly glad she wasn't available.  Her energy was just too much for our family.  The other pup was all about Doreen's lap.  She handed her over to us and the little pup curled up, clearly exhausted.  She was sleepy and grumpy, taking bitey shots at her sister at each frenetic lap pass while she lay curled on a lap.  They'd been playing all day and the little pup was done, spent, pooped.  At least until her sister started digging in the mud.  At this, the little pup hopped down and laid in the hole - digging and biting at her sister to keep her away from the prized brown mud.  

We were in love.  Doreen's perspective on her dogs fit ours.  We were looking for a healthy, sound dog with intelligence, a protective and loyal spirit, and the drive to work as she was bred to do.  She was also a raw feeder, something that I had been interested in trying.  The cards were stacked, and we wrote the deposit check.  We would pick her up the following day. 

Part II to be continued...