It all started on an ordinary Tuesday when I learned our favorite puppy camp is closing. CLOSING! Just like that. No warning. No goodbye treats. No farewell paw-tea. After years of tail-wagging vacations and joyful reunions, Tanner and Oliver’s beloved home-away-from-home will vanish December 31st, never to return.
With my heart racing, the frantic search began for a replacement. How could we possibly trust anyone else with our two “spirited” kids? They’d been regulars of the old camp for years!
After much scrolling, calling, and a few tears, a miracle appeared in the form of a brand-new kennel charging half the price, with discounts for long stays. I practically heard angelic barking from the heavens. Half the price meant more biscuits for everyone. And, since an extended stay was looming on the horizon, this seemed heaven-sent.
Fast forward to drop-off day. Tanner strutted in, confident as ever, ready to charm the staff. Oliver, however, had other plans, bulldozing ahead while sticking his nose through every available hole in the chain link. From that point, we really don’t know everything that happened. It’s better that way…….
By the time we picked them up, his snout had that “I might have tried to tunnel out” look. Tanner, meanwhile, had apparently joined the kennel’s fitness program. Let’s just say they came home looking trim, which is a polite way of acknowledging there was just too much going on to worry about food.
When the staff handed over dogs, Tanner grinned from ear to ear with a “we survived” kind of smile. “They were QUITE a handful,” the attendant told us, as she figured out the our final bill.
With tearful eyes and fretful hearts, we stopped and looked deep into her eyes.
With a nervous laugh and a very important question, I asked, “Oh really? Can they come back?”
“Of course,” came the reply from a seasoned, lovely, and very tired camp counselor.
OF COURSE!!!!
OF COURSE!!!!
Did you hear that HHH????
She said, OF COURSE!!!
Two of the most beautiful words in the English language. I let out the biggest sigh of relief since the time I discovered Oliver had only eaten $40 out of HHH’s wallet.
On the way home, Tanner had to vocalize everything Oliver had done to embarrass her while Oliver slept peacefully at my feet, dreaming of fences, freedom, and future adventures. I smiled. The kennel crisis had been averted. While our dogs might be a handful, they’re our handful, perfectly imperfect, endlessly entertaining, and worth every nose scrape and half-chewed leash.
More tomorrow.