Monday, May 18, 2009


So finally after much debate we have chosen a name for the new puppy, Phoenix. The main reason was because of our translation of its definition, A mythological bird that rises from its own ashes. We felt this spoke to how this puppy was brought into our lives, because sadly our other puppy passed away. And because I found this poem that I fell in love with:

The Phoenix hope,
can wing her way through desert skies,
and still defying fortune’s spite,
revive from ashes and rise.
~ Miguel de Cervantes Saaverdra

Thank God we finally picked one for her because I need a name to scream at the top of my lungs so the neighbours know who I am yelling at someone and not just being tortured by aliens. Phoenix had a rough night followed by a vet visit early this morning to check her stitches from getting spayed last Thursday which were splitting. Don’t worry the vet assured me that she was going to be just fine, that puppies are more often than not too active right after this major surgery and that I should just not let her run, jump, or pull on the leash. Basically attempt to make a puppy behave like a 90 year old dog and stay very still all day long. So for the 14 hours I have been alone with her so far today I have attempted to keep her calm, which she does not like nor appreciate at all. She hates it so much in fact that my beautiful puppies head detached from her body on numerous occasions with the unfairness of it all. Trying to keep her still is like asking a tornado to lighten up on the breeze. Basically it is impossible and I have lost my temper today more times than I have in the past month. I think it is a combination of the futility of the cause I am undertaking, the presence of major sleep deprivation and the fact that I am resisting the large bottle of vodka in my freezer. I think I will just go take a tiny sip now just to take the edge off.

The vet not only relived my fears about Phoenix’s stitches but she also agreed with me that our new puppy is defiantly not pure breed like the shelter had suggested. Dr. Vet as well as I thinks that she is probably some type of Rottweiler German Sheppard mix. I also learned that my puppy is at least a month if not a month and a half older than I was told, which puts her at about 6.5-7 months of age, AND that because of this she was going to be a much smaller dog than the 100lbs I was anticipating. Dr. Vet has guessed that she may be more around 60lbs which is not really what I would have picked if I had known but that is life, a series of choices that leads us down a path where not all the answers are immediately obvious.

1 comment:

paul peggy zeus said...

Her name is absolutely perfect. I love the poem too!

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