Meet Stanley Jason Doodle

ELBEE OMG he has a middle name and I barely had a first name

GUS She always refers to me as Gus, formerly known as Cedric. Is that a middle name?

Friday I went to meet Stanley! As nervous, okay as neurotic, as I’ve been about finding the right dog, Billy, the breeder, put me at ease from the moment I arrived. He took me into the yard to introduce me to the pups and the parents, Nugget and Yetti. It was the most wonderful controlled chaos. Despite the overload of cuteness, it didn’t take long to narrow it down to two of the males.

They were both adorable, but as soon as I held future Stanley, the words of my amazing trainer friend Gina popped into my head. She told me “Hold the puppy on its back in your arms. If he relaxes right away and you can almost feel the body go limp, that’s the one.” As he snuggled against me, I knew.

A short time later, with goody bag in hand and reassurance from Billy to call him if I needed any help, I set off with Stanley to meet the pack. Since it’s best to introduce a new dog on neutral territory, I had made arrangements with my friend Tracy, honorary aunt and Dood sitter extraordinare for a canine meet and greet.  We had decided that I would leave Stanley with her at my husband’s office  and bring down the others, one at a time.

First I brought Elbee, thinking that he might be more difficult. To my surprise, he was great, calm and gentle.

ELBEE Helloo! I’ve been through this before. I totally get it.

Gus, on the other hand, was slightly less than thrilled. It was as if he knew that he was losing his position as the baby of the family. I also think that Gus has become somewhat of a “closet” diva. With his hair, the celebrities that he’s met, and all of the attention, I’m not surprised.

GUS I’ve tried to keep it to myself but look at me. I’m fabulous. Plus I’ve learned from the best.

After so many trips to the office that it felt like the movie Groundhog Day, I finally arrived home with a pretty copacetic pack. Gus is still in a bit of a snit, especially with his newly embraced divadom but is doing better. By the way, Riley, our fifteen year old Golden, is so over it.

I will have lots more to share about training a puppy. It’s not for the faint hearted. For now, while I’m somewhat coherent, let me say that Stanley’s temperament is a gift. When I took him out to socialize, he comforted and cuddled. Marsha, the groomer, said that he “sucked out all of her stress.”

Last night, Nicole, the middle daughter (who has already introduced Stanley on Facebook), felt the presence of his namesake, my funny brother. She said that he was looking down and laughing, enjoying the dog’s name and all of the chaos. I have to wonder. Did my brother Stan send me a special puppy.