I took a break from work this afternoon and took the puppies out into the yard. I love taking them out—all you hear are bird dog puppy noses sniffing like crazy. Their reactions to everything for the first few times are priceless to me.
Here are some pictures of our short venture:
They had a great time, but two of these inquisitive explorers quickly gave me the slip. I found them under the deck. That is yet another project I never completed–getting that blocked off. They got wet and cold (we had a mix of rain, freezing rain, and dense fog today), so our fun time outside wasn’t very long and I had to get back to work.
Which brings me to an announcement that I’ll probably get a lot of ribbing for…
Okay, so, I need another dog like … well, let’s just say I do not need another dog. Some say it’s not smart practice for a breeder to have more dogs than bitches! I obviously have a hard time separating business from emotion where these incredible Llews are concerned. And, it’s no secret that I love my bitches, but I prefer my dogs. It’s also not much of secret that this isn’t all about breeding for me.
I have to confess that I’ve changed dramatically since the loss of Luke and not in a good way. I’ve sort-of lost my way, if you will. My heart has a huge hole in it. I know, I have many absolutely fantastic dogs and very close relationships with all of them. And, I’ll be the first one to tell you that you can spend your entire life looking for that dog that is just like another and that you’ll never find it. It will never happen. So, I don’t even look. I don’t even want to. I want Luke.
As a side note, I had been working on an article a few months ago, yet to be completed, about picking puppies and such and how folks should look at the grandparents of litters and sometimes more than they look at the sire and dam. In it, I discuss how litters inherit this and that and whatnot and how important the granddam and grandsires are.
Now, keep in mind, I wasn’t even looking… I wasn’t planning on keeping another Llew for a while—a long while, too, because I have just what I need in my dams and sires and have to concentrate on our facilities, now. I’ve passed on lots of great pups over the past year—and most of those were very good prospect bitch puppies. But, I just couldn’t do it. I have enough on my plate, have to concentrate on facilities and hunting opportunities. Plus, I have an older dog coming in as soon as I can go pick him up and I’m excited about it because his dam is Jenna (also lost last year)…
Anyway, I have to also admit to you that I’ve been pathetically depressed over the loss of Luke. I’ll see a photo or someone mentions him and tears stream down my face and the depths of my soul ache for my best friend, the one that changed my whole world. The one that lite my life on fire… and I lost him way too young and it kills me… and I’m still furious over it… and I have dreams about hunting adventures we shared and strangely, dreams about places we never got to go, but he’s there in the dreams… and, like I did for years after my brother died, wake up sobbing uncontrollably… and some of you get that–you’ve lost a dog that you’ll never get over and can never be replaced and you can’t even think about another dog, right?
And then, this weird thing happened today… and you’ll think I’m crazy (don’t say it)….
I wasn’t even thinking about Luke. I haven’t had a dream this week. I’m not, now, emotional and I was buried in projects for work that have nothing to do with dogs and I was simply just heading to the kitchen for a cup of coffee… and there he is just sitting there, like he had been waiting for me….
… and he says to me, “I am the grandson of Luke… and I’m going to stay with you and it’ll be okay.” Okay, obviously a puppy didn’t actually say anything to me—I’m not that freaking nuts—but, the revelation and how it happened freaked me out so bad. I stood there looking at him and him at me just like that…. and he even sat there so long looking at me—and puppies just don’t sit there like that, right?—but for so long that I took my phone out of my pocket and took that picture. And then, the waterworks began and I picked him up and it was decided, this puppy is staying!
And, I know, this wee pup isn’t Luke. Luke can never be replaced. And I have no idea where this came from—it came out of nowhere—but in some strange way I’d like to think my Luke was sending me a sign, telling me something, and I’m going with it!
Hug your Llewellin tonight.