Welcome Home Delilah!

The weeks leading up to our new dog's homecoming were filled with anticipation and excitement.  One of the foremost obstacles we were facing was deciding on a name.  This dog's name was Tianna, but we would have called her Tia for short, which sounded way too much like Mia.  We polled our friends and relatives, and bounced names off each other.  One rule I had was that there couldn't be a dog at the dog daycare I work at with the same name.  It gets too confusing for the dogs when there are multiple dogs with the same name in a group, especially when one is naughty and gets in trouble for say, humping or bullying.  The good dog with the same name still thinks it's getting told off even though it was the other dog that actually was in trouble.  Plus I just like unique names, I don't want to have a dog that has the same name as a bunch of other dogs.

My boyfriend suggested Isabella, "we could call her Izzy or Bella for short."  Well that was out- those are two very popular names.  My ideas were shot down too- Numi, Twilla, Talulah, Pepsi.  One day my boyfriend suggested Delilah, kind of out of the blue.  He got the idea from a Grateful Dead song, "Brown Eyed Women."  I really liked the name and I also like the song "Hey There Delilah" so it was a good compromise.  So far I haven't met a dog named Delilah before so that was a plus too!

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On July 18th, Saturday morning, my sister Anna and I drove almost two hours south to Brattleboro, VT, which was the furthest north the transport went.  Coincidentally, that morning the whippet breeder I had been talking to told me that her bitch had been bred and they were expecting puppies in September.  I regretfully declined, wondering if I was making the right decision.

Anna and I reached Brattleboro about an hour early and spent the morning waiting in anticipation.  We went to get lunch (crepes, yum!) but I was worried we would miss the transport so we ate fast.  Finally, after waiting in the Burger King parking lot for another 20 minutes or so, a large cargo transport truck pulled up behind the restaurant.  There were about a half dozen other families there eagerly awaiting their new additions.  I will say I was horrified to see parents letting their children run right up to their new terrified dog and stick their faces right in the dog's face.  My heart stopped each time.  Luckily nothing came of it, but God, give the dog a little space!

The last dog.

I watched dog after dog be led or carried off of the transport and presented to its new family.  I anxiously watched, hoping my dog would be next.  Finally, I saw the man come out once last time with a tiny brown and white dog in his arms.  She was much smaller than I expected, and looked understandably frightened.  He handed the fragile little dog to me with her paperwork, and I took her, feeling a whole plethora of emotions- fear, love, wonder, regret, anxiety, joy.  This was MY dog.  Oh God.

So scared.

We walked her around a little.  She was too scared to come over to us on her own or really walk much, but she peed and pooped and took some water and smelly treats from us that we had brought along.  I picked her up to bring her to the car, and felt a big lump under her belly.  At first I thought they had mislabeled her sex and she was a boy dog!  But upon further inspection it appeared her spay incision was still very swollen.  I was a little worried about infection.

Finally in the car she began to calm down a little, and gave me kisses.  She then proceeded to curl up on my lap and sleep for most of the ride up to Burlington.

Kisses!

Ears!

My tiny little angel baby.