Did I ever mention how we got Tripped up, I mean how we got our third dog, our pandemic puppy, Trip? It all started when my close friend from college started sending adorable pictures and videos of her third dog, to our group texting chat, right in the earliest days of the pandemic and quarantine. All three of my friend’s dogs are rescues, and all three are amazingly well-trained canines. My friend has a gift. She is a dog whisperer. In lapping up all of the adorable puppy pics, coming on a daily basis, I temporarily forgot that I don’t have that same innate gift for training dogs. I am a dog lover, but alas, I am not a dog whisperer. My husband adamantly did not want a third dog in our household, but after days and days of me whittling him down, insisting all of the good a puppy would do, for the angst our family was suffering throughout this pandemic crisis, he finally agreed (I love, and so appreciate, his soft spot for me). I think the fact that I had settled on a Boykin spaniel, helped seal the deal. The Boykin is like my husband in dog form – Southern, smart, sporty, with gorgeous dark brown hair and stunning green eyes.
Once I got the green light to proceed, I started calling Boykin spaniel breeders. Now, any of us who adopted pandemic puppies, knows that puppies became a rare commodity during quarantine. If you had found an available puppy (usually before it was even born or even maybe conceived), you had better lay claim immediately. We pandemic puppy adopters (many who did not rescue pups, because all of the shelters were empty at that time, due to all dogs being adopted – one blessing of the pandemic, for sure) found ourselves spending more money on a dog, than we ever have spent on any animal, in our lifetimes. Still, at the time, getting a pandemic puppy seemed like one of the sanest things to do, in an otherwise insane time in history. Go figure.
I located a young man who lived in a rural county in the Carolinas, whose beloved dog, had just had her first litter of Boykin spaniels. The young man was so sweet and kind and earnest, answering all of my questions patiently, with all of that wonderful, wholesome mix of Southern charm and manners. He knew that he would have no problem finding homes for all eight of the puppies, but he seemed particularly impressed that I was from Florida. Having never been to Florida, he was entranced with the idea of one of his puppies, living in the exotic, tropical land of palm trees, white, sandy beaches and Mickey Mouse. All of the other puppies would remain with local hunters and farmers, but this puppy would bring attention to his newly found kennel, in the balmy land of faraway, suburban Florida.
“Well, ma’am, I can tell you are a dog lover, and I really do like the idea of one of my puppies being down there in Florida, so maybe we can arrange something. I’ll save you a puppy with a deposit, and we’ll figure out the logistics, later. Yes, ma’am, I think this is all right and meant to be,” he said, with enthusiasm and positivity.
And without hesitation, I sent him a puppy deposit on Venmo, right that very second.
The puppies grew older and healthy, and my daughter and I face-timed our charming, young breeder to pick out Trip. We got to pick out our fur baby from the group of four of the puppies, still not spoken for (the breeder earnestly stuck with his order of deposits) and we both agreed on Trip immediately. It was then that my gallant, young friend, asked me to call him, one-on-one, to discuss a big favor.
“Ma’am, how would you feel about meeting me in Savannah, Georgia, to pick up your puppy?” he asked.
“That sounds reasonable. I can do the whole drive, in a day. Sure, that’ll be fine,” was my answer, filled with excitement and anticipation of having the day planned and scheduled, to scoop up our new fur family member.
“Okay, great, and ma’am, how would you feel about helping me out with a little surprise for my girl? I would like to ask her to marry me there, and I am hoping to get it on camera, right there in front of that majestic fountain, in that pretty park, which I’ve seen on the internet,” he said, calmly, matter-of-factly and full of faith and trust that I was up to the task, despite having never, ever met me in person.
Now I love love. I was completely honored and overwhelmed with the beauty and magical-ness, and seemingly fated quality of it all. I said, “Yes!” immediately without thought or hesitation, forgetting the fact that my camera skills are about as good as my dog training skills. In other words, full of good intentions, but lacking in skill.
My youngest two children had planned, all along, to drive along with me to get our puppy. (there weren’t a whole lot of other options for things to do, in those early quarantine days) Their response to the proposal plans was not quite as enthusiastic as mine. “What if we mess it up? That’s a lot of stress and anxiety to put on us. Mom, we are really perfect strangers with this guy!” my son lamented.
The reality of it all, started wearing on me, too, but the young man seemed so sure of himself and his plan, that I felt like I couldn’t say no. It felt like we were part of a wonderful, meant-to-be, romantic story or movie. I innately knew that we had to go with the flow of the Universe. Plus, I knew that it would be a wonderful story for all of us, that we would never forget. It would be a glimmer of happiness and hope, in a time of so much fear and uncertainty.
When we arrived in Savannah, and we met our breeder friend and his love, Trip was a ball of adorable, yet completely spastic energy. Having been cooped up for hours, he wanted to run in circles and chase leaves and bugs. He no longer cared to be held and cuddled. Our breeder was clearly nervous, and not in any hurry to rush “popping the question”. I did my best to steer all of us towards the fountain, trying to make eye contact with Trip’s breeder, while my agitated and nervous children had their hands ready on their phones, like they were guns, in holsters, during a Western quick draw. Suddenly, Trip made a mad dash underneath the fence of the glorious fountain, seemingly doomed for some kind of looming danger, like drowning or getting lost in an endless sea of bushes surrounding the fountain. Trip’s impulsivity seemed to stir our breeder friend, into action, as well. He dropped on his knee. The rest of what happened is a blur for me. I was desperately chasing Trip. (something that I’ve gotten quite familiar with over these past several months) After frantically picking up Trip, like a falcon snatching up its prey, I glanced over to see a beautiful, in love, young couple embracing and crying. I heard some clapping from onlookers. And I looked at my children, and their faces looked satisfied and relieved. My children had gotten the critical moment on camera, for posterity. Mission accomplished.
About a week ago, our Boykin breeder texted me (we exchange puppy stories and pictures every once in a while), checking in on Trip. He then asked me for some advice. I held my breath and bit my lip . It wasn’t anything like his previous request, thankfully. It turns out our breeder friend and his fiancée want to make a trip to Florida, once this whole pandemic thing is under control. ‘Where did I think that they should go?’ is all that he wanted to know. I love love. I think that those two lovers will do just fine wherever they end up going . . . both in Florida, and in life.
