Love

It's likely that this topic will have a series of posts. Love, after all, is magnanimous and comes in so many forms. 

This Valentine's Day, I decided to focus some extra attention on two boys whose love my husband and I treasure. Toby (Tobias Felix Wigglebottom) and Cody (Cody Jackson Wigglebottom), or Tober and Codes, as we affectionately call them. They are massive, Old English Sheepdogs (OES). OES are known as the "clowns of the canine world" and require "continual training" throughout their lives. Translate--they can be incredibly playful and goofy, but are super difficult to train. "Willful" is the term I've read about them. Above all, they love hard when they are raised with care and affection. Just like people.

In January 2012, we were trying to cope with the loss of our two previous OES: Ted had died in May 2011 and Willy had been gone for 24 hours. We always planned that they would be our final OES, because we are getting older, our bodies are breaking down, and OES are large and as they age they can need help being hoisted into the car, etc. We figured we didn't have that in us. However, as we sat, saddened in our silent living room, Thom said quietly, "I contacted Helen. She has a litter due in March." 

Helen breeds OES. We bought Willy from her. Willy was the sweetest, dearest dog. She bred dogs with good traits.

I started to cry. It had been a difficult year. We don't have children, so our dogs are that for us. I was trying hard to adjust to the idea of life without dogs. We had talked about possibly getting a smaller, rescue dog. But, all Thom had ever owned were OES; and in the twenty years we'd been together, those were the only dogs I had known. 

Thom, always one for pragmatics, asked, "Do you think we could have one more? Will we manage as we and the dog both age?" I felt we could do it. One more. Relief and anticipation replaced deep grief. 

The next two months were not easy. Despite knowing we were getting a new dog, we REALLY missed our old dogs. Willy, after Ted died, had become my constant companion. We went for rides and long walks, he slept at the foot of our bed. His presence helped mitigate the loss of Ted, and our growing closeness might have helped mitigate the loss of his buddy/brother. 

The weekend of March 10, my old teacher friends gathered in southern Maine, on the coast. The moon was full and orange that night. We decided to see it in all it's glory by going to the beach. What a sight.

Later, when I talked to Thom on the phone, he told me that the litter had been born! It was the perfect news on a spectacular night. I wasn't with Thom, but my friends are dear to my heart and they all understood how exciting this news was. 

The next step was to pick a dog. We had some fuzzy pictures from Helen to begin to see the faces of the litter's pups. There is nothing CUTER than an OES puppy. I'm not lying, check Toby out:

Three weeks after they were born, we had a weekend filled with events. We heard the President of the United States speak in Portland,

 then we headed to Denmark, ME, to spend the night before seeing the pups in the morning. We would go skiing at Saddleback Mountain after selecting our pup. My father-in-law had won two free passes and gave them to us. It was a weekend-long celebration. 

We entered the whelping room, and were greeted by the soft noises of three-week-old pups.

Helen told us that they had recently had their meal, so a number of them were experiencing food coma and it took some comotion to wake them. With her permission, I climbed right in and sat still in a corner of the box. Soon, there were adventurous pups cautiously checking me out. You want to see which ones are curious and not too anxious. They tend to socialize better. We were looking for a male. Female OES can be nippy without a lot of training, as they don't have the size of the males, in which to assert themselves. Their size makes them easier to have around, but their temperament's take a lot of care. One of the boys, one with a black eye really took to me. He quieted every time I picked him up. Helen said, "Oh, make sure you have a #2." We had second choice of the litter. It was apparent that this little guy was already picked, which was fine, as he was slightly insecure. Helen handed me another pup, with two black ears and different colored forelegs. He became nervous quickly, whimpering, so I set him back with his littermates. However, it appeared he thought about things and decided he liked me. He gradually made his way over the piles of pups and ended up resting his chin on my leg. He continued to show a fondness for our pats. Thom thought he was sweet. So did I. He was our pick. We just had to hope that the person with the first choice didn't change their mind and decide they wanted him. 

What a fantastic way to start a day, that ended in beautiful Rangely, ME with sunshine and skiing. 

We returned to get our puppy when they had weaned and were ready to leave the litter, new name in hand: Tobias (Toby) Felix Wigglebottom. The night before the pickup, Helen had posted on her site that there were still two left for purchase. Thom indicated that he was tempted to get two, but we quickly realized that would be daunting as we and they aged. 

The drive to Helen's was a blur. We were both so excited. It was another glorious day, and western Maine is stunning. We arrived at Helen's with all the important items: a harness and leash, toys and a fleece blanket to rub on littermates and his mom so their smells would calm him once he was separated from them, and a water bowl and puppy pads for the ride home. 

Oh, those FACES! They had grown and were adorable. Helen picked up the biggest puppy, who had some quirks--polychromia (one blue eye and one brown), as well as spots that made him look like a jersey cow. She said they were calling him "the cow dog". His potential owner had backed out because his wife had just died, unexpectedly, and he knew he was in no emotional place to raise a puppy. As we waited for Helen to get our paperwork together, we talked about the two dogs who didn't yet have homes. Thom: What do you think? Can we handle two? Me: Absolutely. Let's get the cow dog, because he's kind of a mess and we don't care. We told Helen, when she returned, that the cow dog was going home with us, as well. She, of course, was thrilled (and probably had planned it all along because she knew we were suckers). 

We drove home, a bit stunned at our decision, but we had no doubt we did the right thing. "Cow Dog" became Cody Jackson. Thom had a love for Wyoming, the "cowboy state". Cody and Jackson Hole being two of its cities influenced our choice of names. That, and the fact that Jackson was already on my radar because my nephew had lobbied us to name our first pick Jackson, after his friend. 

Here's my lap on the way home.

Since that day, joy, and some chaos, has ensued. Knowing we aren't going to have any more big dogs after these makes them all the more precious. Here they are as pups and now. 

You can probably see how these guys could help heal some broken hearts. 

Love.