Remembering Babies

Wow.

It was about all we could say to each other at first.

My Mom and I were on a road trip and were on our way back to Victoria from Sointula, when we saw the ad. Mom and Dad had been thinking about getting a dog, and for the longest time, the argument had been that Mom wanted a Pomeranian or some other lap-dog. Dad wanted a "real dog". A dog like we'd had before when my brother and I both lived at home. Another lab. Lucy had been the best dog a family could have ever asked for. We'd have to speak in code - she could spell bowl, leash, walk... what was next... I seem to recall her eyebrows raising when my brother and I had spoken in pig-latin about whose turn it was to take her for a walk. Smart. Cute. And full of love for her "people".


And there it was... an ad in the paper. It read "Pom Lab X puppies for sale". We looked at each other, my Mom and I, and our draws dropped. And we laughed. How could it be possible? We decided that it was at least worth going to see this "miracle of nature" litter... at least see what they'd look like. It turned out when we got there, that the mom was a Pomeranian-Sheltie cross, and the dad was a Lab. Whew. Who would have thought that a Sheltie could have saved the day?

I was going through some photos on my computer in the late late of last night, inspired by some high definition photos I had seen online, when I came to a very favourite photo of a canine baby. My Mom and Dad's canine baby, Ginger. a.k.a Gingie, Ginger-bear, Ginge, or simply "dog" (only my brother calls her that... and only to get a rise out of our Mom)

She was a monster.
A monster in the cutest, fluffiest, creamy-ginger coloured furry suit.
A dark-eyed, black nosed fiend.
A nearly-holy terror.
An "Alpha-girl" to quote the vet.
"This one could be difficult" she said, as Ginger beared her teeny-tiny razor-sharp teeth. A prescription for dog-obedience class, and two years of fairly strict enforcing of the "class" rules, and Ginger has graduated into the hearts of our family.

Now she is definitely a momma's girl... funny for my Mom, to be sure. Our family's dog-while-I-was-growing-up was so much my Dad's dog, I'm pretty certain Mom sometimes felt like they teamed up against her in the battle of "only CLEAN feet in the house" and the war of "What should the dog be allowed to do?"

Anyways... the photos were taken by my friend's friend, Rory, and they're not high-def... but I thought you might enjoy a peek at them. And maybe one of Gingey now as well.... a happy, kind, and sweet two year old.