Dogs Are Family Too, Final

When you have three dogs daily doo pick up is a must do chore. Poops pile up pretty darn fast if you don't, making backyard navigation hazardous.

Since I usually make that chore a part of my morning routine I wasn't all that keen about getting another dog.

Nevertheless, just for fun and out of curiosity I would occasionally check the internet for my long ago pick of Bracco Italianos. There were some beautiful web sites of breeders from overseas but that was out of the question for us. There were a couple of breeders in the United States but it seemed they never had any puppies when I looked.

One day in November, about six months after Elmo died I was once again checking out my dream dog. There on the web site for Cerca Trova Kennels located in Colorado was an announcement from October that they had a litter born on the 10th.

Later that evening I asked my husband if he still thought he wanted to get a third dog. The answer was yes. Time to start my smooth talking.

I took out the dog breeds book and flipped it open to the Bracco Italiano page. I showed it to my husband and made sure to point out all the positives.

Braccos have a very handsome and nobile looking hound dog type face. It's a shortcoated dog so there was no grooming issue. Their tail is docked. We frequently have to remind each other to move drinks into the TFZ (Tail Free Zone) of the coffee table because of Chester's long whippy tail and Gus's sweeping tail, something that was a nonissue with Otis, Roscoe, Duke, and Elmo.

Appealing to my strange sense of vanity was that I was pretty sure we'd be the only people in Bakersfield to own a Bracco. And, since our first dog, Otis, had been a German Shorthaired Pointer, getting the Italian Pointer would round out the heritage part of it for me.

My husband looked at the book for a while. I added that I had found a breeder that had puppies ready to go and if we wanted one we'd probably have to act fast. I was a little surprised when he said to go ahead.

I fired off an e-mail introducing myself and asking if they had any male puppies left. I wasn't sure when I would hear back because it was Thanksgiving Day.

I did receive an answering email Friday morning. They had several males left and if I was interested I should call. I did call right away and spoke to Dan. I hope he didn't hear me gasp when he said they were $2500. The "good" news was that the price had actually been reduced to $2000 because they had hernias that would need repair. I started to panic a little when he further stated they did not ship. They required buyers to pick the puppies up from the kennel. Thinking fast, I asked if I could send a $500 down payment to hold a puppy until we could get there in the next week or two. He agreed but cautioned they would go fast and we could only pick from what was left.

I told my husband the bad news about having to go to Colorado. Then he asked the one question I had been dreading. How much? I held up two fingers. He raised his eyebrows a little and I added "thousand." His response was a quiet "Wow."

I did have most of it squirreled away in our little safe. I had been saving it to use towards our car insurance due in May. With a teenaged daughter with one point already on her license, I knew it was going to be very costly. But hey, I couldn't pass up this opportunity. What's more important, after all? I would worry about the insurance when the bill came.

I believe all my common sense fled out my ears the moment I heard my husband say we could get a Bracco. I had often scoffed at the high prices some people were charging for dogs in our local paper. Even scorned the people who would be foolish enough to fork out that kind of dough for a mere dog. And now I had become one of them.

I expressed my concern about waiting too long. And then my husband surprised me again. He said he would go the next day (Saturday) to get our puppy. YES!!! I called the breeders to let them know.

First thing Saturday morning I went to the bank to get the remaining cash plus a little for expenses. I gave my husband an envelope filled with cash and the Map Quest directions plus all the phone numbers.

As he drove off I remember thinking if he realized this was Thanksgiving weekend and traffic, especially the return on Sunday, would be horrendous, particularly through Las Vegas. I wasn't about to tell him.

He told me later the drive up was uneventful and he got to Moab in about 12 hours. He slept in the truck (not very well) and the next morning drove another 1 1/2 hours to the kennel.

He got there fairly early and the puppies had to be awakened so he could make his pick. There was one brown and white male that he liked (reminding him of Otis) but he ended up picking the liveliest of the bunch at the time, an orange and white male.

The drive home took about three hours longer because of the traffic in the Las Vegas area, just as I'd feared. But he finally made it home and we instantly fell in love. While my husband went to get some much needed sleep Chester, Gus, and the puppy got acquainted.

new puppy & Gus get acquainted

Being the oldest, Chester was not crazy about the new guy and let him know it by showing his teeth and giving the softest of warning growls. Gus, on the other hand, became the nanny. They slept together and played together. Even when the sharp puppy teeth drew blood, Gus was ever so patient.

buddies

I had decided my husband had most definately earned naming rights. After some contemplation he came up with "Clyde", after one of his grandfathers.

At Clyde's first vet appointment one of the girls exclaimed how cute he was. Of course, all puppies are cute. Then she said, "I've never seen one this color before. Oh! What happened to his tail?" I knew then that she was thinking he was a bloodhound, because at that time Clyde had the long ears, big jowels and lots of wrinkles on his face. In fact, he had lots of skin all over. I told her he was probably not what she was thinking he was and explained about the Bracco Italiano.

lots of extra skin

Clyde is six months old now and about half way through his basic obedience class. If I say so myself, of the eighteen dogs in the class he is probably in the top three. Everybody is impressed with how well he does (practice, people, practice!). It's obvious at home that he is a hunting dog. He brings a tennis ball to be thrown over and over and over again. The only time he stops is if he sees a fly and then he becomes totally focused on the fly. We're looking for a trainer so he can get some formal pointing training. And not just anybody will do. I want to make sure he doesn't get ruined by a rough handler using shortcuts or whatever.

practicing long sit with an audience

Clyde is not the most perfectly behaved dog. I've had two pairs of flip flops chewed, my son has had a pair of sneakers chewed and my husband's old work boots are now sporting a stlylish band of silver duct tape along the top. And yes he has lots of toys. I think he must like the smell?? We've learned to put our shoes up and out of reach or in the closet where they probably should have been. He likes to sneak up onto the bed early in the morning and gets between my husband and me. And sometimes he still tinkles in the house. Just a little.

with a duck (first lesson?)

But it's so easy to forgive him. He is still a puppy after all, and he is just so darn cute! Even Chester has accepted him.

God has a way of making things work out. Even for foolish people. Carli had moved out in the beginning of November. When I got the car insurance renewal bill and saw that she was 80% of the $5600 (after "discounts") I told her she'd have to find her own insurance. She was able to find a much better deal for her fiance and herself, and suddenly my insurance became affordable again. Thank you, God!

And now finally the tale of the dogs is over, but it's not ended.

Clyde, Chester, Gus