Reality hit me when upon talking with my roommate, I realized I would be hard-pressed to find an apartment complex that allowed 130 pound dogs. I downsized. My next goal was just to get a large-breed puppy as soon as possible, never-mind the fact that I had no idea where I would be living or what a reasonable weight was for an apartment dog. I scoured Petfinder on a daily basis, looking for a puppy to train "while I had the time." Though I was in the throes of senior year of college, trying to graduate cum laude, preparing for a family vacation to Italy that would take me away for over a week, and looking for a job and an apartment, I believed I had more time to train a puppy at that point than I would after graduation.
Did I mention I was still living in the dorms, where pets were illegal? Although I had been successfully housing a turtle in a rubbermaid container, marked "winter clothes" to throw off the wily RA, I knew a puppy would be a little harder to hide. Also, I knew I wouldn't be welcomed home with open arms if I held a new little ball of fur in my own arms....My mother had clearly told me that.
Nevertheless, my puppy dream persevered. Plus, to be honest, I had visions of spending my final collegiate months at the softball field, watching friends play - cuddling with a puppy, laying out in the grass between the dorm complexes - cuddling with a puppy, studying late into the night- cuddling with a puppy. All of my visions for this dog included cradling this helpless little life in my arms at all times, nurturing him and building an everlasting bond. When my boss - who worked out of her home, surrounded by acres of land and populated with three fun-loving dogs - said I could keep a dog there until graduation, I pounced on the opportunity to get a puppy.
One day, the lights of heaven shone on me. I had been scouting out dogs at a local Humane Society because they didn't do home-checks: A real plus for me, considering I didn't exactly have a picturesque home situation for a puppy. One day, they posted a litter of puppies that sounded great. "Yellow Lab mother, Great Pyrenees Mix father...Large breed dog that will stop traffic....They are cute, cute, cute!" Thus began my love-affair.
He was one of a litter of puppies that had been taken from their owner when she couldn't care for them any longer. I was assured the mother was a Yellow Lab; the HS volunteer had seen her when she went to pick up the puppies. The father was unknown - a milkman- but I was willing to agree that the little fluff ball was a Great Pyr mix, meaning he would be large. Perfect.
I went to Petsmart on a rainy, dreary Saturday and met the pups, two guys and three little girls. Both of the males were calm, cuddly, and very anxious to sit on my lap. After about an hour of playing with them, I chose Kizmet, the calmest of the crew. He was bound to be beautiful, big and cuddly, after all, he only wanted to be near me! Furthermore, a friend confirmed it when she said, "He's going to be a Mama's boy. I can tell."
I knew I had found THE ONE. I fitted him with his new collar and leash, gathered him in my arms and took him "home." So began my life with the terrorist.
This is his photo I saw on the Humane Society website. Who could resist that face?
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