Our Story Part I | Hounds | Hounds and Hearth
21719
post-template-default,single,single-post,postid-21719,single-format-standard,cookies-not-set,ajax_fade,page_not_loaded,,select-child-theme-ver-1.0.0,select-theme-ver-4.3,wpb-js-composer js-comp-ver-5.4.7,vc_responsive
dog doll welcome.

Our Story Part I | Hounds

A boy named Buffy…

When my parents first adopted a little round puffball my dad thought their new puppy looked like “the buffing cloth I use to buff my car.” That’s how we ended up with a boy named Buffy.

Buffy was probably the first dog I ever met. A small, squeaky Yorkie, he was my parent’s first child. I wish I had more memories of him but I was just a baby and all I have are a few Polaroids of our encounters. I know that he set the tone for the way I’d feel about dogs throughout my life.

A white dog named Coco

Coco is the dog my sister and I grew up with. He was white. Yup, we had a boy named Buffy and a white dog named Coco. Welcome to my life.

He was a chubby little poodle with the worst breath of any dog I’ve ever met. But he was awesome. He slept in the room my sister and I shared, our little protector. When we went swimming he was guaranteed to jump in the pool with us. If we accidentally left the ladder down, we found ourselves outside in our pajamas giggling and coaxing him out of the midnight dip he was taking before bed. I can still smell our chlorine-scented wet dog and see him sitting watchfully on the steps that led to the bedrooms.

Coco snoozing on his favorite step.

The Girls and “The Boxer Shuffle”

After Coco came the girls – Dawn and Margie. Dawn was the first Boxer puppy I ever met. She was all feet and legs and taped-up ears. What a feisty little thing she was! We all fell in love immediately, so much so that Margie joined the family shortly after. They sealed the deal for me and Boxers became my Favorite Breed Ever.

 

The next 12 years were filled with Boxer butt wiggles, lots of sloppy kisses, and spectacular mischief. Margie ate a hole in a brand new mattress, Dawn ate an entire loaf of Challah bread she managed to get off the counter, and Margie once danced into the living room proudly carrying what was left of the Thanksgiving turkey. The losses of Margie and Dawn were heart-wrenching.

The Weeble

Then came Oliver. My mom and stepdad adopted Oliver shortly after losing Dawn. Oliver was a black and white mixed breed that I used call The Weeble because of the cutest little egg-shaped knot right on top of his head. Everything about my Weebs was perfect – even the time he walked up to me and oh-so-gently removed a sandwich from my hand just as my starving self was about to take the first bite. Oliver inspired my first business venture, Puppy Love Bakery and he performed his job of Supreme Taste Tester and Quality Assurance Manager quite admirably.

I love them so much… and I am in their debt.

OUR STORY PART II | HEARTH

No Comments

Post a Comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.