Wednesday, December 31, 2008

There's a new kid in town!

And her name is Millie!

Okay, Carra will probably kill me, but her original name was Una. Her registered name is Oakwind's Singular Sensation, as she was the only surviving pup in her litter. It's a great name and so was her original name, Una. But I knew a gal named Uhna who worked with me and in the end, things Weren't Quite Right.

Every time I called the puppy by that name, I pictured a diminutive, Korean woman who spoke so softly that I just gave up even trying to listen. At least at lab meetings.

I tried. Before I realized I was going to pick this puppy I had been calling her Big Fat Una just to make it different from just plain Una (she was a week older than the next litter of puppies, so she looked big & fat compared to them). But once I brought her home, I tried. But it just wasn't working. Instead, I started calling her Duppy, which is still going to be a nickname. Carra called the puppies, "puppy duppies!" and that's where that came from. But I already have one stupidly named dog (Map) and thought I should try a little harder this time.

I thought about Phoebe and Libby, but they weren't quite right, either. Then I started chatting on a message board with a gal named B Girl, who has a schnauzer named Mabel. I told her how much I loved that name (though my puppy didn't really look like I Mabel, so I couldn't steal it) and she said, "I love old lady names like Mabel, Gertrude and Millie."


For some reason that clicked and I really like it! I'm having a tough time breaking myself from Duppy and getting Millie (she's one in a million!) to work right in my mouth and brain, but I'm getting there.

So Millie is my show dog. She's looking to be a sable and has adorable markings on her face. Her cute puppy butt is to die for and I have to get some pictures before she starts growing her big girl coat and gets pants.

So far she is doing well. I must admit that this girl is quite scrappy and has no issues taking on Jack. I don't let that happen, but I wish she'd back down and not be such an instigator. Needless to say my shake can and squirt bottles are getting lots of use. I keep them separated except for brief play times together. It may take a long time for them to like each other, but I hold out hope!

She plays fabulously with Map and the two wrassle non-stop. Well, until the point of exhaustion. Right now the puppy is asleep in her x-pen after a few hours of playing with Map, then a quick chew on her new tiny Everlasting Treat Ball toy before recharging her puppy batteries.

Jack is quite upset that she has some good toys (the treat ball, a few baby kongs and I got her a ball to put her dinner in that she has to roll to get her dinner out. She eats very fast--I'm starving!--and I want her to slow it down a bit). He keeps pushing at her pen to try to get her toys. After enough shakes of the can, he's finally given up. For the moment.

At least she is food motivated, so now I have to work on finding some yummy bait to get her excited about working on the table, as she learns the ropes for showing.

Stay tuned for lots more pictures!

Another one bites the dust

The countdown begins as we now wait for the squeaker bits to exit Jack's posterior.

Yes, the first of the new dog's toys has been intercepted and destroyed by one of the big guys. I forgot I was trying to burn off some of her energy by playing fetch with her booda dog last night, and also forgot that we abandoned it outside her playpen.

This morning when I let Jack out, I realized he had her pink pup in his mouth and he made a beeline to the door. I don't know why it took me so long, but I didn't get out there in time to Trade It For A Cookie. By the time I got to him, stuffing was strewn about the yard and, as expected, the squeaker was gone.

I've lost count of how many squeakers he has eaten. I know I have found them in piles of poo out in the yard, so he doesn't seem to have a big problem passing them. Usually he doesn't even get squeaky toys because of the rabid, must kill and eat their life source mentality he has. Goofball. But one slipped under the radar and his taste for fiber-fill innards was quenched for the day. Evil doer.