And They Called It Puppy Love

From the moment we eased our car down the driveway of the house that sat on the shore of Old Hickory Lake, and saw eleven white Labrador puppies lined up in a row, each standing on two legs with their paws resting on top of a short chicken wire fence, wagging their little tails at us for all they were worth, whining to be picked up, held, cuddled and loved, we knew we were sunk. The cuteness was overwhelming. We were putty in their puppy paws.

Which, if you think about it, is already a recipe for trouble.

Putty’s bad enough. Never give it to a puppy.

Last week, I told you about Deacon D. Dawg’s departure from this earth. This week, although I have no time machine with which to whisk you back to the moment of his arrival on our planet, I do have a few photographic offerings, from his first year in our home, that I hope will make you smile.

And I think you just might. After all, who can resist a puppy?

We certainly couldn’t. And therein lay the problem.

His breeders told us Deaky’s father was an award winning champion hunting dog, named Bogey. Bogey’s vet adored Bogey to the point that he started thinking about preserving the genes of this wonderful dog. So he took it upon himself to ask the owner of his favorite female yellow lab in his practice, and arranged a little meetup between Bogey and the Mama, Bailey. He lit some candles, poured some Perrier in the water dish, played a few Barry White tunes, and 11 joy-filled, wiggling, whining puppies were the outcome of that blind date.

Rather than serving as a warning complete with flashing red lights, (father: outdoor loving, high activity champion sporting dog), we allowed our vanity to be fed. After all, this puppy would have award winning genes. He came from a love match made by an excellent, loving veterinarian.

It sounded good in theory, but what it produced was the world’s mouthiest puppy, eager to chew anything he could wrap his little chompers around. Labs, during their first two years of life are crazy. Cuhraaaaaaayzeeeeeee. But, OMGeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, was he CUTE!!!

Don’t be taken in by the cuteness. Cuteness in a Lab spells T.R.O.U.B.L.E.

Yes, Mama looks a little disheveled.  But happy!
Who has time to fix her face with a 5 year old boy, a two year girl, and this brand new bundle of joy?
Because, remember, in a Lab puppy, a bundle of joy spells. T.R.O.U.B.L.E.

The bundle of joy was deliriously happy to be added to our pack.

And…well…for the MOST part…the pack was happy to have added him, too.
Despite the looks of tragedy, uncertainty, and well…awkwardness you see written on each of the faces  here.
We all had to adjust to each other.

But that brand new puppy family member could retrieve till the cows came home.
Had we had any cows.

He’d retrieve until he was plum tuckered out.

After a busy morning of retrieving, and chewing anything he could wrap his jaws around, he’d collapse in the corner for a nap amongst my daughter’s stuffed animals.
Can you find the REAL puppy in this picture?
Hint: Jar Jar Binks is not a puppy.

But oh, how quickly those little puppies do grow up.
Birthdays happen, and before you know it…
Your little bundle of joy starts looking like a real dog.

Tune in soon for just a few more memories celebrating the life and good times of the best bad dog we ever had, Deacon. D. Dawg.

Have you ever been a victim of puppy love?


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