The newspaper ad read, Puppies for sale, Pomeranian – Lhasa Apso mix.
We drove the 16 miles to Newport and found the address at the top of a steep set of stairs, with very little room for us to park our pickup.
A nice lady answered the door and let us in, we introduced ourselves and told her that we'd like to see the puppies in the ad. After a few more pleasantries she asked her husband to “let them out.”
He crossed the room, opened a door and stood back.
All of a sudden a dozen or so (it was impossible to count them) yipping, yapping little balls of fur came running, slipping, jumping, peeing and sliding across the living room's hardwood floor. They were so excited and full of fun that Carol and I got down on our knees with them and got our faces and hands licked for the effort. It was a pandemonium of cuteness.
One puppy caught my attention; he was a mixture of colors, with two tufts of white hair that stood up between his ears like devil horns and a mischievous glint in his eyes.
I turned to Carol and asked her which one she liked the best. “That one!” she said, pointing at the devil dog.
“Me too!” I said.
“Well, that was fast!” the lady exclaimed, “I call him 'Diablo', and he's my favorite!”
“I can see why!” I said.
I wrote out a check, the lady gave us our new puppy's shot records and papers and said goodbye to her favorite, with tears running down her face.
On the way home we talked about a name for our new family member.
“'Diablo' is fitting, but maybe we can find a better name for him.” Carol said, as the puppy cuddled in her lap.
The next few days we tried and rejected a host of different names, as the puppy entertained us and terrorized our Lhasa Apso, Chewy. Chewy was old and almost blind, and he showed an amazing amount of patience as the new addition yipped and nipped at him, trying to get the old guy to play.
We thought “Hoppy”,and “Khan” cute names, but not quite right, “Beelzebub” was too long, “Devil” was too evil, and then Carol remembered the nickname we'd given our grandson Austin when he was going through the “terrible twos.” “Why don't we call him “Taz,” Carol said, “He's a real Tasmanian devil for sure, and Austin has outgrown the name, anyway.
Now Taz has grown up and has to put up with his own upstart puppy. I guess turnabout is fair play.
No comments:
Post a Comment