Why? Why did we suddenly decide that our very calm life needed chaos? Why did we tempt the fates by deciding to add another dog into our home? It all started about a month ago when my hubby had car problems necessitating a rescue from your faithful author. I picked him up at the car dealer and we went to get a cup of coffee at Belle Cour in Wayzata. While there enjoying the best almond croissants in Minnesota, a man came strolling by with a dog inside the restaurant. It felt very Parisian, coffee, croissants and dogs. Then you realize, hey, there’s a dog in this restaurant! You take notice and then you see that it is a dog that is a very rare breed; a breed you have been secretly pining for on Instagram and in doing research you realize they were hard to come by, so where did this man get this rare dog? We stopped him and asked, “is that a wirehaired Vizsla?!” Why yes, it is he replied. He then went on to tell us his dog was a Service Dog and that he was the best hound he ever owned. He was a great hunter and had an angelic disposition. The Hubby and I wanted to meet him and so we went to the back of the restaurant and got to meet his dog, Tek. The man lived between Alaska, Minnesota and the Dakotas and was a hunting guide. The dog was like a unicorn. He was so darn sweet and MELLOW. Sign me up. He gave us the name of his breeder – a woman in Hungary – and said she was great to work with and she routinely bred and shipped wirehaired Vizslas to the United States.
We left our coffee all jazzed-up on the prospect of one day getting this mellow, angel-baby of a dog from the Hungarian breeder. I found her on Facebook and sent her a message asking about her breeding operation and inquiring as to the cost of a unicorn dog (mellow and athletic and smart). Wouldn’t you know it, she in fact had a wirehaired Vizsla available right NOW. Huh? What? Were we ready for a puppy? Was it fate that we contacted her and that she magically had a puppy available, or was the dog a dud, a litter leftover with some sort of defect? We did more research, looking at breeders in the US, comparing prices and policies and we decided to do it. We would get a Hungarian Hound. Once we made up our minds, we had many moments of wondering if we had made a mistake. Our household already has a dog, a sweet boy named Cooper who is a 7 year old Vizsla. When we got Cooper we had a 7 year old dog named Milo. They were pals and had a ball hunting together and Milo had the patience of a saint. It is fair to say he didn’t cuddle with Cooper but they got along and had fun together. Cooper is at a perfect age for a dog. He is still athletic and active but is happy taking naps and as soon as the sun goes down, he sleeps. He also sleeps in a kennel and when we are at work, he goes in his kennel to sleep. No fuss, no muss.
OMG. How cute is he? We then had to wait until he was old enough to ship to the US. The waiting seemed like it was forever. The breeder sent us additional photos of our fuzzy baby as he was getting bigger:
And finally from a few weeks ago:
The day finally arrived. Last Friday we got our little fuzzy baby named “Dutch.” Here he is:
I have taken tons of pictures and videos of this little whirlwind but rather than inundating this blog with pics, go to my Instagram page for the latest (TonkaDutch). Let me say, one tends to forget the misery of tending to a puppy. It is all sharp teeth (like razor daggers) and mischief. He has discovered the joy of grabbing my throw rugs and pulling them down the hall. He is chewing on everything – rugs, woodwork, wood chips, feet, hands, you name it, he chews it. You cannot lose sight of him for one second. Not one second as Cooper is not having it. He tries to avoid the puppy and gives him growl if he gets in his space but we are trying to avoid any negative interactions and it is nerve-wracking. We want them to interact but we don’t want it to be bad. The Hubby takes them for walks everyday and we are keeping them in separate rooms as much as possible but the puppy is obsessed with Cooper and it is hairy. He is too young to go to Doggie Daycare but he will be good to go in 8 days. He needs to run around all day and get his craziness out. I can’t remember how long the terror of puppydom lasts but we keep telling each other to take it a day at a time. Tick-tock. Did I mention it is my turn to host Thanksgiving dinner for the family this year. I pray I get something edible on the table and if not, there’s always wine. Happy Thanksgiving to everyone!