And Then There Were Eight
Whimsy has returned.
Whimsy is an Irish Wolfhound.
Whimsy is Fey’s and Molly’s litter-mate. Their mom was Mimzy.
I take breeding Wolfhounds seriously. I love the breed. I love it’s antiquity. I love the individual hound’s quirks.
They are a quirk-filled breed.
They are sensitive and stubborn.
Lousy noses……………. great vision.
But what sticks out for me is their intuitive caring.
They are sympathetic and empathetic……..they can’t necessarily help in a situation…….but they will immediately become a Velcro-hound and stay stuck by your side (whether you want them that close or not).
Irish Wolfhounds can tap into your emotions before you even know what you are feeling.
The breed’s history is an easy Wikipedia-read on the computer. I have been careful over the past twenty-five years of breeding with regards to the breed’s limited-gene-pool.
My emphasis in breeding is for health and longevity.
I don’t like what the computer says on the breed’s life-expectancy.
I’m proud to say that the great majority of my puppies live healthy, long lives.
All my hounds are well within the breed standards………..I just don’t always breed the biggest to the biggest………………and I’ve never had one drop dead from a heart attack in the middle of a “play day” with other Wolfhounds………………….(nope, I’ve never heard “that” story about other breeders……………………..just saying…………………)
I want to help the breed, but with that comes the human-owner-aspect.
………..sigh………..
It usually works out all right.
Some are stellar……………..you know who you are.
Boadicea———–you are out there leading the pack as an Irish Wolfhound owner……………….just don’t let Nymeria talk you out of too many T-bones.
But with the good owners come the others.
People always have their own agendas.
However, when that happens or when life just happens, I believe it is my responsibility to be there for my puppies………if I possibly can and if the owners will let me.
Hence————–Whimsy is back home.
And you know—————-after all of her owner’s alliterations/warnings/& caveats about how Whimsy didn’t fit into her life anymore……………….my husband and my younger daughter took off her pronged collar, loaded her up in the family car in Orlando and drove her back home without incident.
No growls. No snaps. Not even a rolled eyeball…………
I don’t think Whimsy was the problem…
So without fanfare, Whimsy was re-introduced one by one to everyone in the family-pack here………………..and everything is fine/copacetic/mundane………….just another day at the oasis…
Whimsy……………difficult? Nope.
Owner………………difficult? Yep.
……………………………..and so life goes on……………………………
…for some……………………..if you’re lucky………………………….sigh…
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Still awaiting more conclusive test results from the State Lab about what happened with our horses and Annie………..
Whimsy, I’m sure, will sit by me and help me wait…