As I’ve mentioned approximately 8,325,905,867 times, I am the mommy of a beautiful cattle dog/beagle mix named Moxie. On Monday, she had her first birthday, which I can hardly believe. It feels like it was only the other week that I went and picked up this sweet puppy from Alive Rescue in Roscoe Village.
Dogs are a big deal in my family. I grew up with a fuzzy mop of a dog named Mozart, who has attained a sort of legendary status for his quiet gentleness, fondness for children, and a propensity for sneaking licks of coffee out of unattended mugs. My parents now have a Jack Russell/Golden Retriever mix, Zak, who is, on a good day, extremely timid and prone to hiding in corners, although he does enjoy the company of his girlfriend, Kia, who is forever running out of her yard to visit him.
My uncle has three dogs, all of whom are invalids in one way or another–one is missing an eye, another has diabetes, and the last one is so fat his belly scrapes the ground. Following at a close second place, my brother has two pups, Snoopy and Captain Hector Barbossa.
When I moved out of my parents’ house in November 2013, I was completely dogless for the first time. Sure, there were two cats, but their company never appealed to me. I felt lonely without a canine companion.
By the next spring, I had begun my search. I was looking for a boy, and I wanted him to be around one or two years old, and I wanted him to be on the smaller side of medium.
By the summer, I was bringing home Freckles, an 11-week-old female puppy whose giant paws foretold her eventual hefty size. I’m still not sure how that happened, but I suspect the answer lies somewhere in that cute little face. I renamed her Moxie (actually Macchiato, but who calls her that?), and, miraculously, she became my very own dog.
I was not prepared for puppy ownership in the slightest. My training consisted of reading 30 pages of the Dog Whisperer book and hoping for the best. Some things were easy–she got potty trained within days–but she would often go into these wild spells, and she loved testing out her needly puppy teeth on my arms and legs.
By the time she hit six months, she calmed down considerably, and now she’s my best pal! When I’m not at work, I like to spend every minute of my day with her. She’s always ready for a long walk, or a peanut butter-stuffed Kong, or a round of tug-of-war. When she’s tired out, I don’t think anything is cuter than her little snores.
So here’s to Moxie, my special little baby lamb!