Puppy breath is the best. It is perfume to the heart.
When I brought home the new puppy, I spent the first few minutes snuffling up as much of that wonderful perfume as I could.
“So, you can’t handle a puppy right now—hmm?!?” said Bron with a grin.
Despite all my protestations, Bron had added a female puppy to our small family. His beloved Border Collie, Zak, was getting older, and Bron was determined to have a Zak Jr. But, he needed a female Border Collie to be the mommy. This new puppy was just the right choice.
The only problem was, I couldn’t take on the responsibilities of raising a puppy. My life was hectic. I didn’t have the time a puppy needs.
“She’s mine,” Bron said. “I’ll take care of her. I’ll get her trained. You won’t have to do anything.
But, the instant I saw her I took her to my house. I had already set up a bed and a food bowl by the time Bron swung by after work. That’s why he was laughing—he saw the puppy lust in my eyes and knew the power of puppy breath.
But, true to his word, he took her to his house and began her training right away.
She had no accidents in the house. Bron had her sleep in the bed next to him and took her outside the instant she woke up—even in the middle of the night. She knew what “potty outside” was in less than a week.
She was a pocket dog. Bron took her to his construction sites in the pocket of his big coat. She became adept at riding in a truck, playing in the big sand pile, not flinching around loud power tools, and melting the hearts of big, burly contractors who instantly switched into baby talk at the sight of her bright smile.
The only thing: “She needs a name,” Bron said.
He had me thinking. I’d watch her intently as she ran, played, and chewed a bone. I mentally tested different names as she made each day brighter and sillier. I was feeling privileged that I was the one responsible for crowning her with just the right name that would sum up her personality.
“I’ve got it,” said Bron one evening as he dropped her off at my house.
“What have you got?” I asked.
“Her name.”
My heart sank a bit. I was the one who was supposed to come up with her name.
“What?” I asked.
“Chance.”
“Chance? As in Chancey Gardner?”
“No, as in ‘Take a Chance.’” He grinned. “That’s just what I did. I took a Chance, and there she is.”
I had to give in. The name was perfect, even if I didn’t think of it. We had both taken a Chance and she had already become an indispensable part of our family. We were in love with her and even better than that, Zak loved her too.
Chapter Three—Yet to be posted
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