“Puppy, puppy, puppy” or how to get a dog

Probably the most beloved member of our family is our dog Dingo.  He doesn’t look much like a Dingo, in fact he doesn’t look much like a dog at all.  He sometimes looks a lot like an Ewok, when he goes too long between groomings he looks like a tribble, but I can assure he has the pedigree and heart of a wolf.

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Dingo, he puts up with a lot.

He is a mix of a pure bred Cocker Spaniel and a Shih Tsu.  While other people can say with a straight face ,without fear of offending old ladies and children, “My dog is a Labradoodle”, there is no way to say “My dog is a Cockashit” or “My dog is a Shitcocker” with any kind of dignity.  There is a reason he’s a child of a misalliance rather than planning.

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Dingo with his sister Moxie, the feral cat from Keene NH. They love, if not always understand, each other.

Dingo’s father, Black Jack, was still a young puppy himself.  He was too young to get fixed yet.  His mother, Pearl, was a pure white senior Shih Tsu that no one had any clue still had romance in her heart.  Their mating is unclear, some sort of “Mrs.Robinson” moment I imagine, and much to the shock of the family, Pearl was preggers.

I found out about this via a forum post on the JREF filled with interesting symbols instead of vowels.  “F*CK!” and “Sh#T” and “Those D@MN DOGS”.  Still the entire forum followed along with the pregnancy.  When the puppies were born I remember the heartfelt forum post by the dogs human mother, Scarlet, “It’s FIVE BOYS D@MMIT!” (or something like that).  How Pearl, under 10 pounds, managed to pop out five boys was beyond anyone’s guess.  Remember, this would be like your grandmother having quintuplets.  As for their father, Brian, he was “Alright Black Jack!”

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Black Jack seemed to have no clue where all this new puppy friends had come from.  He could tell that old slutty lady Pearl seemed to be feeling a little under the weather, so he brought her one of his toys and dropped it near her.  I remember reading it was one he really didn’t care for much.  He was like most teenage fathers, and had no concept that these were in any way his responsibility.

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Dingo, slightly bored, with friends on the boat.

As the puppies grew my family followed along through the darling photographs posted of the dogs.  Black Jack would show up in the morning, ready to play with his new “puppy friends”.  We still refer to Black Jack as Dingo’s “daddy/brother”.  Pearl, coming late to life to motherhood, was an indifferent mother.  Still with the help of the humans, including young Tony, the pups thrived.  Tony, still a pup in human years, would often be sent to babysit the pups where they would be gated off in the kitchen.  Scarlet remembers going in once to find Tony happily sharing his box drink via a sippy straw with each of the pups.

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Dingo, happy outdoors guarding the lakefront.

Dingo was different, from the start, he would rather hang with the humans of the house than the other pups.  He was named “Dingo” by the Australian skeptic Kiley Sturgis.  Various followers of the forum named the other puppies.  While these were only meant to be temporary names, Dingo would only answer to “Dingo” when he joined our family, and so his name stayed.  He’s just not the baby eating type.

Now, my daughters and I wanted one of these puppies.  My husband, a reservist in the Navy and aware that we had often moved for work, had always said “NO” to a dog.  Still, I took advice from another forum member on how to get my husband to say “YES” to a puppy.

The power of "bunny"

The power of “bunny”

She told me she wanted a bunny, but her husband had pointed out their small apartment and said “no”.  So, she decided to just mention it.  A lot.  She didn’t nag, she just would say “Bunny” at random times throughout the day.  By random, I mean at least 20-30 times a day.  This went on for weeks.

“Honey, would you, bunny, like a beer, bunny?”

“I love bunny you”

“Your bunny mother is on bunny phone and want to bunny you”

She got her bunny.

A home with pets is a happy home.

A home with pets is a happy home.

My husband has no defense against a three woman onslaught of “puppy, puppy, puppy”

He decided to see about flying a puppy out to where we live in New Hampshire.  When this proved logistically too difficult, he  decided we would all drive out and pick up Dingo.  The girls and I later talked about how it had actually been way easier than we had imagined.  We were half convinced he would never say “yes”.  The power of “bunny” has never been lost on us and we all three still use it to great success.  If  you want something enough, don’t nag, just remind.  You haven’t forgotten, and he won’t either.

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Dingo and his neighbor/girl friend Maggie. She’s a much younger woman, but they are best buddies.

Today the girls are grown and have their own homes.  My husband comes home to a happy dance from Dingo, even if he has just walked to the mailbox.  Dingo is our eternal 3 year old, devoted to his family, confused by the cat  (who manipulates him without mercy), and a favorite with his veterinarian and groomer.  He has a touch of arthritis, and we carefully lift him in and out of cars and on and off sofas.  He loves to go boating, being on the water, is wonderful.  He’s not so good in the water.  Cockershits aren’t built to swim, so he always wears his swim vest when near water.

As for my husband, he long ago began to appreciate having another man in the house.  The evenings are spent with Dingo cuddled up next to his “dad”, watching TV together and perhaps secretly sharing a snack as I ask “You aren’t feeding that dog chips are you?”

The power of “bunny” is that in the end, it brings happiness even to those that were at first resistant.



Categories: pets

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2 replies

  1. This one of your most wonderful posts ever, Kitty. I’ll never, ever, see an obvious crossbred small hairy dog again without wondering if it’s a “cockershit”. Thank you! pony pony pony

  2. Dingo is a real sweetie, definitely worth the drive to get him. I am glad you have told the story of his arrival in your family.

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