July 05, 2005

ANOTHER MOUTH TO FEED

Please welcome the latest addition to Casa del Ensalada: Hobart Samuel Houck.

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He's 10 weeks old and our second Golden Retriever. You might remember that we said goodbye to our sweet and amazing friend Yuletide in April.

We bought this pup from a Crystal River breeder who had eight puppies for sale. To keep from having to drive 90 minutes to Crystal River to meet the critter, the breeder chose a spot off Hillsborough Avenue in Tampa that she was familiar with: a Golden Corral parking lot.

It was kind of a weird arrangement, but not weird enough that it dissuaded us.

We got there and saw her family's truck parked in the shade out back. Around it, a handful of golden puppies were scampering.

Well, all except one. This one.

Instead, he had crawled under the back bed of the truck and was asleep underneath, his head propped up on a parking curb.

"That's my dog," I said, pointing at him. "He's our speed."

We played with the other males, Remmington and Jake, just to be sure. Even scratched behind the ears of a couple adorable female pups. And eventually the sleepy one came out to toddle around. It quickly became apparent that this was our guy.

So we signed the check, collected our registration papers and health certificates and carted him down the road.

Thirty seconds after which he went entirely narcoleptic on us.



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He slept almost the entire way home. Then he'd wake up for 5 minutes. Then he'd go all Captain Randy on us again. There wasn't anything alarming about it, really, since he's a pup, but he did show a certain aptitude for slumber, a talent I really have to say I admire.



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Even after I got home from work today, he wasn't what I would call perky. I picked him up to take him out (pictured above) and he went all boneless on me. He was relaxed the way Willie Nelson must be after a bale of hippie lettuce, entirely happy for me to be driving the bus while he luxuriated.

Anticipating that all this sleep might later turn into early morning awake time, we drug him out to see fireworks last night, thinking all the noise and screaming children might wear him out.

Didn't work. Dog woke me up at 2:30 to take him out. (Good boy, Hobart.) And I'm still awake. But it beats cleaning his kennel in the morning.



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Firecrackers? Mortars? Explosions?

Explosions, schmosions. There was sleep to be had in the cool, tall grass.





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The oceans of sleep were interrupted by brief bouts of activity, spent mostly dragging his rudder through the grass.

Hey, I'd do it too if I could get away with it. Who am I to criticize?





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All that stimulation, though, can wear a dog out. He looked so satisfied and satiated, I thought about lighting him a cigarette after he was done.




Posted by Jeff at July 5, 2005 03:50 AM | TrackBack
Comments

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!!!!

Congrats on the new addition. Makes me think good thoughts about old Rustoleum.

For some reason, I'm only pronouncing Hobart's name as if I were from very northern Minnesota (Hohhhh-baaahhrt).

Continue to post tons of puppy pictures, please!

Posted by: JD at July 5, 2005 08:34 AM

I'll be more than happy to.

Posted by: Jeff at July 5, 2005 10:00 AM

Too cute, congrats on the new editi o nnnnnnnnnn zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...z..woof.

Posted by: Cupie at July 5, 2005 11:24 PM

Too cute! Woof!

Posted by: Meg at July 6, 2005 05:51 PM

LOVE him.

Posted by: Kat at July 7, 2005 03:21 PM
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