Love Puppy

Ruby looking ever so innocent. We know better.

It's been one week and one day since we brought Ruby home to live with us. Life as we knew it is over. It's better. We're having such fun with her. So cute we can hardly stand it, yet a complete handful. When she's awake I wish she would fall asleep and when she's asleep I want to wake her up. Every time I look at Ruby I want to take a picture.

Gone are the mornings of lounging in bed, reading the paper and drinking coffee. Now we open our eyes and race to the crate to take Ruby out to do her business. Then she's absolutely starving and frantic for company. She now sleeps all night without a peep, but at 6 am there is hell to pay.

Mornings are insanity with this creature. Ruby bites with her sharp, needle teeth. She scratches and claws and hurls her five-pound body in circles. She does barrel rolls. Then comes the collapse. Ruby goes from awake to snoring faster than my husband. Having her sleep on your lap, making soft, snorty noises is bliss.

When we drove half way across California in hundred-degree weather we thought we'd be picking up a dog. What we got was a pig. Or, a cross between a pig and a rabbit. Sometimes she seems like a kitten with bat ears. Very rarely does this creature resemble a dog. It's hilarious. It’s hard to convey how tiny Ruby is. Eric says she looks like a large burrito with legs. She’s smaller than his shoe. 

Since French Bulldogs are so popular we couldn't buy one locally until 2014, so we looked farther afield. You can have them shipped from anywhere in the country for a price. I didn't want to meet our new dog at the airport. I wanted to see where she came from. Meet the family.

Modern Moms sometimes take a little getaway before their baby is born. It's called a "babymoon". We took a "puppymoon". We turned the pre-adoption trip into a mini vacation. The drive down the central California coast was stunning. Lunch in Arroyo Grande was lovely. We stopped in charming Solvang for wine tasting. Think Pennsylvania Dutch country in California.

Then it was off to Montecito. The beach was three blocks from our hotel. The air was warm and humid and summery. The ocean was delightful. Memories still linger from the wonderful lunch Eric and I had at San Ysidro Ranch. Such a special place. I need to go back to Santa Barbara again soon.

Lunch at San Ysidro

Southward to Los Angeles and a visit with Allie. More beach time and a fun dinner at Cecconi's, the restaurant for which she does social media. It's very hip and trendy. They only let us in because we were with Allie and Keilan. I couldn't help but notice how many women with long, black hair were in attendance. It's partly attributed to the Middle Eastern residents, but I think it's more the Kardashian influence. In Marin everyone is still trying to be blonde.

Sunday we brunched in Santa Monica, hit the Getty Center and had an afternoon drink and snack at the Polo Lounge in the Beverly Hills Hotel. We sat in the garden, which reeked of money, new and old. Celebrity sighting was a little slow. There was only one "Housewife" to be seen. I still don't understand how a housewife can be famous.

My favorite part of the LA weekend was Sunday evening when Eric made a delicious dinner for Allie and some buds at her apartment. All Mill Valley friends, living in Los Angeles now. They have history together and are making more memories while they forge
their futures. So many laughs with them.

Monday morning we had an early breakfast at Le Pain Quotidien in Beverly Hills and then headed for the hills. The breeder is located at the base of the Sequoia National Forest, in Springville. Beautiful,but in the middle of nowhere. Ruby, the only piebald, was the first of the eight pups to leave home. The ride home in the car was exciting for all of us. None of us were sure what to expect. The temperature outside reached 105 at some points.

Eric and I were starving so we stopped at a Foster's Freeze where we were the only customers. We obviously couldn't leave Ruby in the car so Eric just walked in with her and nobody said anything. It was us with a dog or nobody at all. We got to Mill Valley about six pm, just exhausted.

The next couple days of pupternity leave were a blur, with getting up at night and adjusting to new routines. There's a reason 55 year old women can't have babies. It's called menopause. There's also a stamina issue. Caring for newborns is a young woman's game.

It’s been a busy time of bonding, pooping and peeing. We thought housebreaking was going to be so easy. Then Ruby started actually eating and drinking. In my mind the word "puppy" is now pronounced "poo-pee".  We saw the vet last night for the once over and he suggested more crate time. We also spend a lot of time outside. So far, it's working well.

I'm not afraid of the care-taking responsibility. I'm all about care-taking. I've lived with and cared for a boyfriend, child or husband since I was seventeen years old. I'm organized and can multi-task, plan and strategize. I know how to take advantage of nap time. Not care-taking is more of an issue for me. Taking care of myself has been a hard learned skill and I'm still not very good at it. 

I've been thinking about why I have blocked dogs since Hanna died six years ago. I’ve concluded that it has to do with my heart. Being a wife, being a mother, being a person, can really hurt your feelings. Going through a divorce is a loss. Shared memories are gone, possibilities for the future are aborted. It takes time to rebuild, reboot and recover. If your parenting is good you lose your children many times along the way. You raise them to leave you. How masochistic is that?

When your dog dies it’s unadulterated pain and grief. You mourn their company and unconditional love. You miss their smell. I was pregnant with Lucy when Albert, the Doberman, died of congestive heart failure. I cried every day for a month. I used to sniff his sweater. You’re setting yourself up for certain loss. Having a new puppy in the house evokes wisps of Hanna's ghost for me and Ruby’s favorite place to drink water is from Toby’s huge bowl. This ridiculous little critter has big paws to fill. Huge. Oh my. Here we go again…