Ramblings of A Labradoodle Owner

We all realize the real costs of owning a dog AFTER going to our vet’s office for the 1st set of shots and possible emergency visit. But what about when we are off to Petsmart or Petco or any store that sells pet supplies? 

First of all, the list contains multiple items, such as: a crate, leash, collar, dog food, bowls for food and water, a doggy bed, shampoo, conditioner, treats, and let’s not forget “Nature’s Miracle” for those far and few between “accidents” while housetraining a puppy. I am not going to add up all these costs for you or myself, as any dog owner already knows this: it comes to a lot of money, period. And those of you with children, dogs cost considerably less than a baby or should I say a teenager? 

Fine, right? It is part of having a wonderful cute sweet adorable puppy. Besides how else are you going to take great pictures of your dog playing? YOU need toys when in reality we are supposed to say, “Your dog is the one who needs toys”. I have found that even men love to shop for dog toy which truly amazes me. Ever go to a pet store and look at a special stuffed animal that may cost $20 or more? A woman will say that is too much money and put it back. Or rather there are some of us women that love to find a good deal and realize it isn’t, so we put the toy back. Whereas Dave, my fiancé, will purchase it right then and there. He is a man that knows a good deal when he sees it: our two doodles will play for hours first having a tug of war party then move on to the de-squeak and de-fuzz stage meanwhile he can watch a movie in peace. That kind of logic can make sense but women love to hunt down the best deal (on toys). It is part of our genetic make up. As they say a man will pay $20 for a $10 item if he thinks he needs it or will give him freedom. A woman will pay $10 for a $20 item even if we don’t need it because it was on sale and a good deal.  

Not too long ago, while sipping my coffee and relaxing at my dining room table, Max and Peanut had almost every toy they own scattered around me. When I got up to get my caffeine refill I realized my two dogs had as many toys as a 3 to 5 year old! Was I nuts?! Or had Dave and I become like my friends that treat their dogs like their babies? Guilty as charged. Now came the part of adding up the cost of toys for Max. I’ll add in the “Peanut” factor later.  

1.   One eviscerated 3 foot long skunk now squeaker-less but tasty: $26.99 (Dave’s logic of a good deal). 

2.   Intact with squeaker but de-fuzzed and slightly de-seamed 2 foot long Moose and Buffalo $40.00 (And yes, Dave also bought these due to male logic). 

3.   Two ducks licked to death and only one quacks but is still missing a foot: $20.00 

4.   One white and blue intact KONG teether that will bounce crazily if thrown: $8.00 but priceless if you ask me.  

5.   Miscellaneous small plush squeaker toys no longer replaced as we found out that “carcasses” are still considered fun to further shred: $30.00 to-date.    

6.   Tennis balls now in a landfill somewhere stripped of fuzz and with holes in them: $15.00  

7.   A 5 squeaker Felix the cat now down to 3 squeakers, partially stuffed and in bad need of a washing: $9.00  

8.   Big rubber teething ring totally intact with very few teeth marks to-date: $4.99 (one of my better deals I found). 

9.  Soccer ball found at Goodwill and still not deflated: $1.00 (wow!)    

10. Two wiggly jiggly alien sounding rubber balls, one no longer has sound and the other has a few puncture marks but both still are safe from destruction: $14.00    

11. One small, red, rubber KONG ball that is missing again and not under my couch or chairs as I checked those spots first: $8.00 

12: Miscellaneous costs: you do NOT want to know. This is when you realize the cost goes up considerably. Why? Because it is expensive to replace a pair of shoes, one pair of winter boots, one pair of prescription glasses with puppy teeth marks that makes it hard to see out of them clearly, a wool rug with a nice oblong 3 by 7 inch hole, at least 12 pairs of socks to-date (maybe more), one hooded sweatshirt that is missing its hood, one set of headphones with the sound part not in working order presently, one Bluetooth presently toothless and going to a landfill soon, and I am going to be sick if I continue on any further. 

13. Cost of playing with your dog and receiving their unending love: PRICELESS. 

NEW YEAR’S RESOLTION: Get PROMOTED at work to make more $$$$ in order to buy more toys and keep up with miscellaneous costs. Or work overtime? Or pick up a part-time job on the side? OR learn to let my dogs only have the toys listed above that last and keep playing with the ones that are still recognizable in one form or another. Do not throw them out until they are considered hazardous to their digestive system and my purse. 

Yes folks, my priorities have finally been set for me by a dog. So why use Visa or MasterCharge when you can pay as you go? Thus, no finance charges—isn’t that a savings? Moreover, I forgot to add in the cost of a digital camera. Actually the cost is not much when compared to the pictures and memories I have taken and stored to-date. OH regarding Peanut: the cost does not go up with a second dog. As Peanut, our second dog, loves hand-me-downs. Fantastic! Two doodle dogs provide my family and I with two times the love and all the money in the world could not buy the fun, laughter and love we experience. For some reason I have stopped adding up the cost of my dogs’ toys as it now seems minimal. Spending more time with my family and dogs is counted on more.    

The contents of this blog site are copyright (c) 2007, Annmarie Sparks. All Rights Reserved  

Somewhere, somehow I lost my sanity completely this past year. I thought 18yrs of marriage, 3 kids in 4 years, in-laws, a divorce, and then teenagers would do me in. No, somehow I managed to maintain some sanity and dignity too. I forgot to add I have a fiancé, Dave. Things also got a bit easier as Max and my kids were getting bigger. So what do I do? Well it’s like having an ice cream sundae with the hot fudge, walnuts, whip cream and now let’s put the cherry on top and add a tiny bit more hot fudge on top to complete it. Yes folks, I got another doodle, however this time I got a Goldendoodle. I swore I wasn’t going to get another dog, but I did. So instead of having 1001 reasons why not to get a dog, I ended up getting two. Dave always had golden retrievers growing up and is now in seventh heaven. So am I as our Goldendoodle doesn’t shed at all.My breeder had a litter of puppies at the end of November 2006 and for some reason I really believed I could help her socialize the Goldendoodle puppies and NOT come home with one. I am either softening up or had one of my more disillusioned moments in life for sure.  I would like to add that I am also happy I cannot have children anymore as babies are just as contagious.Weekly I help out my breeder, holding and playing with these tiny bundles of joy called Goldendoodles. Then I get to thinking maybe Max does need a playmate. And why wait till Max is a year old and grown up, why not do it now. Have 2 puppies close in age, meaning total chaos like I did with 3 kids but when they mature things tend to get calmer. I mean why would you want to raise a puppy into adulthood and start over again, right? This is where I believe I lost all sanity or what was left of it. My new motto in life is “I lost my mind but I am having too much fun not looking for it”.

Two to three times a week I drive the 4 miles to my breeder’s residence where I had gotten Max. Once again I set forth with what I thought I wanted but with a few changes. I wanted an older puppy this time as Max was much easier to train at 13 weeks old. The reddish puppies were really gorgeous especially with their wavy coats. Another laid back male would be nice as I heard female dogs aren’t called bitches for nothing. And last but not least, the temperament must be sweet, submissive and an easy going like Max.

So for the next 4 weeks I have this chunky monkey, roly poly, red puppy picked out. I ended up calling him Tonka as he was just like a Tonka Truck: nice, sturdy, durable, and could push his way through anything. He was a huge, red,   ever so laid back Goldendoodle. Even the breeder agreed that Tonka would be an ideal match for us and Max.

Now there was this cream to golden colored female I nicknamed Peanut when she was only 2 weeks old as she was the runt of the litter. At 3 weeks old, Peanut was a Lewis and Clark expedition gal being the first one of the litter to explore everything around her. Peanut was not afraid of anyone or anything.  She walked tall as she could and proud as well.When only 4 weeks old, hoses used to water the horses were to be held back by Peanut, sinking her teeth into it and holding on for dear life. Didn’t the horses realize Peanut was fierce and brave saving them from a water hose death? Peanut turns into ricochet rabbit: Bing, bing, bing— she was off running and bouncing about the barn independently.

Kinetic energy was Peanut’s middle name. I always commented how cute she was but the breeder and I agreed she would be too much for me as I wanted a more laid back puppy and preferably a male again. I did my best not to pick her up, always saying “Peanut honey, you are so cute and I’d love to take you home but you have too much energy for me”.Peanut never took this rejection as a personal insult, instead she always was the nice female puppy making her way to the front to say ‘Hi, pick me, pick me”.  Somehow she never fought with her littermates as her stance and sharp bark alone made her littermates back off. But it was also like you could hear her say, “Look, Annmarie is here again and I must say hello to her. Excuse me, excuse me, thank you.” Somehow she always managed to get right up front. The few times she didn’t, Peanut had a way of jumping up in the air without knocking any other littermates over, making sure I noticed her. You could hear her quietly going “Hi, pick me, hello, pick me”. Peanut from day one made sure she was going to be our newest addition. I just didn’t know it at the time.

One day I thought I had the other cream female puppy asleep inside my coat for over a half-hour. The breeder finally said, “You do know who you’re holding don’t you?”  I looked down, it was Peanut!! I almost shrieked and put her down so fast! She had gotten me lock, stock and barrel! She had finally succeeded in making me fall head over heels in love with her.

Long story short, Dave and the boys wanted a female puppy. And have heard many times that female gets along better with a male dog. However, I always had male dogs; I didn’t know much about female dogs. Next thing I know Peanut acts like the perfect puppy around all of us now when we all visit weekly. I am a woman so you think I’d know a thing or two by now about females.

Finally I agree to think about Peanut but still had my eye on the roly poly red puppy. Peanut has so much energy yet acts submissive around me and so sweet. Knowing the breeder prefers to keep the puppies with the litter until they’re around 10 weeks old, I figure I have time to think this over. Or was it to rethink the insane decision to add a second puppy into our life? Did I mention we had “pick” of the litter.

Somehow the mild, almost nonexistent, winter here in Western, NY took a turn for the worst. Temperatures were going into the single digits with wind chill factors to be enacted like a cold artic tundra simulation. My breeder called asking us to take our puppy by Saturday. It was Thursday and Peanut was only 9 weeks old! I wasn’t ready for this puppy this soon. Needless to say Saturday morning at 9:30am we showed up to take home Peanut, our kinetic energy puppy. I don’t remember the exact day but it was in early February, a nice sunny but cold and snowy day.

Once home, Peanut was just the opposite of Max. She didn’t stick by my side being a shadow attached with Velcro. No, our little princess Peanut had to explore every nook and cranny. And the cute puppy soon became an energizer bunny that had too many quarters inserted into her back.
 
Now Max, Peanut’s half brother, a huge, black, 50 lb, overexcited 7 month old Labradoodle puppy was waiting to find a squeaker toy inside her. Even worse, he licked her to death, nibbled her fur, and could put her whole head inside his mouth doing his own version of the circus lion trick. Max became turbocharged with happiness and refused to settle down. Peanut was now rethinking if SHE made a mistake picking us as no one told her about Max. I figured we were even now. She fooled me into thinking she was a sweet little angel and I didn’t warn her that she would not be an only child in our home.

Week one: Peanut finds she can nip and tuck then run under my dining room chair for safety as Max could not fit under it. Max thought of Peanut as a new battery operated toy scooting across the floor. This was going to be fun folks as never a dull moment would be had in my household again. We also found out why female dogs are called bitches. Peanut, is one and does that, when tired. Nap time restores good humor back into Peanut, most of the time. You see, Peanut had to learn Max was bigger and just wanted to play. Her real frustration grew partly out of being tired. The other part was for her to teach Max that SHE was going to be the boss which wasn’t easy to teach to him since he was a ‘whatever” attitude type of male always coming back for more. Nothing Peanut did fazed Max in the least. And at times he would just put his big paw on her and hold her down for a few seconds. You could almost hear the Mutley giggle under his breath while Max kept the ever so innocent look on his face, giving me the infamous male “What?” look.We set up a puppy kennel for peanut. This way she could play yet be watched at all times. I knew we were in trouble on the 3rd day we had her. She somehow managed to escape 3 times one morning with me chastising Max. Seriously, how can a 9 week old puppy move a kennel and get out without some help from another dog, namely Max. The 4th time this happened I turned around just in time to see Peanut climbing up, over and out of a 2.5 ft high kennel like a person climbing a ladder. I didn’t know a 14 pound puppy could climb. I do now. The next day Dave made the kennel 4 ft high and felt quite proud to outsmart a puppy. This lasted maybe a whole hour. Yes, Peanut was caught climbing up and out of the now 4 ft high kennel. Crate training began that same day. But I am NOT going to say with total success.A few days later we were to learn Peanut was part Houdini as I awoke one morning to find her and Max playing in my bedroom. I will admit I wasn’t fully awake and thought how cute they were till I realized they were both loose while I had been sleeping. Dave happened to have called right at that moment, and I proceeded to ask him why in his right mind he’d let a 10 week old puppy be loose with no supervision with Max, a 7 month old puppy.  Dave replied, “Honey, she was asleep in her crate when I left for work this morning. In fact, I didn’t walk either dog as they were both asleep.” I immediately got off the phone as shock now set in. I raced them out the door for the morning potty walk come in and set out to find my supplies for accidents.

Warning: Labradoodles are very addicting! After a few months of owning one, you notice signs of being a Doodleaholic. You are not of a right mind when you begin to think of owning two! By now, you have joined some dog club via internet and either do doodle romps, try to meet people with other doodles to play with your doodle and your teenage kids now tell you that you love your Labradoodle more than them. Or perhaps you stalk others when walking their dog going, “Honey, look there’s another Labradoodle. Come on, if we walk quicker we can catch up to them.” I do believe that is called stalking. Doesn’t matter, what matters is you alert for anyone else that has a doodle dog and share in the laughter and love they create.

Think about it, kids take how long to mature about 18 years or so, versus a dog taking maybe 2 or 3 years to mature. Maybe my kids are right when they say I love my doodles more than them.  I’ll have to think more on this one. Okay, I’m done, yes it was quick.

Kids do not pick clothes up off the floor where they drop them. Dogs pick up socks, shoes, shirts or anything they find on a floor. Kids leave dirty dishes in their rooms. To this day I wonder how many new forms of penicillin are yet to be discovered in a teenager’s bedroom. Dogs are great at cleaning dirty dishes.

Kids get driving permits. Parents and dogs suffer in the backseat tucking their heads down in order not to see the near misses with other cars.

Kids break curfews coming home late at night with you waiting up worrying to death and wanting to kill them the moment they walk in the door. Dogs bark letting you know when kids come home after curfew. I love when my teenagers are busted by a puppy.

Dogs don’t complain about their picture being taken or how it makes them look. Okay they may lick a lens but at least they are willing subjects.

Kids have fist fights and if one is a female then holds a grudge for weeks or possibly for months. Dogs can have a fight establishing who the boss is and that’s the end of it. Dogs do NOT hold grudges. Ever get mad at your dog? And how long before they are trying to give you kisses? Or just walk out of the room and walk back in a minute later only to see your dog wagging its tail happily to see you again. Teenagers are like women, they bring things up from the past— dogs don’t (perhaps that is why dogs are called Mans best friend).

Kids do not take their dishes off the table when done eating. My dog, Max, not only eats everything, licking his bowl clean, he also promptly brings his food bowl putting it on my lap after each meal.

Kids hate vacuuming. Or if they say, “Alright, I’ll do it”, then they proceed to suck up anything in sight except the dogs usually clogging the vacuum in the process. Dogs are better than vacuums finding each and every tidbit, gleefully using their tongues to lick up findings on the floor, don’t clog up and don’t break belts either.

Dogs do not ask for money, or to use your car, and don’t argue with you. Dogs can be crated for timeouts. Crate a kid and you are charged with child abuse.

Dogs can be taught to ring bells to go outside and don’t leave doors open, rather they can open doors. And if they jump on the door, guess what—they’ve just closed it for you. Teenagers need revolving doors especially when they have friends over leaving the door open during winter, each time heating the great outdoors.

Kids help create dust bunnies, dogs find them wearing them on their noses letting you when it’s time to dust again.

Teenagers do not answer the door when someone is knocking but dogs alert you to every person not only at your door but also every UPS and FedEx delivery in your neighborhood. Now I will admit I do love all 3 of my teenagers. But when dog chews a sock it can be thrown out and easily replaced. When your child puts a hole in plaster walls, breaks an antique crock, uses your wooden spoon to make wooden dowels for a project, eats a whole half gallon of ice cream you bought 24 hours ago, well there are days my priorities of human versus canine love, does get rearranged into a different order: dogs being at the top of the list with my teenagers following in order of what stress they have created for that particular week. I am just being honest and do not play favorites until my spare car is missing along with a teenager that didn’t ask first along with not calling home to check in.

There are a few similarities between kids and dogs. Like I said, there are just a FEW.

Both can and will waste toilet paper and paper towels. Messes made by teenagers are done by “Not me” whereas dogs usually conceal theirs digestively whenever possible.

Both can make you laugh, both need guidance. However, dogs mature much quicker and will do tasks repeatedly for a treat. Teenagers do things when they know you have threatened their life or take away car keys.

Kids are trained for years yet do the same things over and over again. Okay, how many times has anyone heard a parent saying, “How many times have I told you….asked you…” etc. Perhaps even your own parents stated the same to you at one time? Dogs can be trained and show results if consistent with them. Kids don’t do this till they have their own kids and/or own their own home.

So when asked by my teenagers if I love my doodle dogs more than them, there have been moments when  I do have a tough time answering as if I reflect long enough they may be right! I have been raising kids for 19 years now and they have yet to mature. According to statistics, dog books and owners the average dog is an adult when 3 years old. 

So YES there are days my doodles LOWER my blood pressure and my teenagers make it so high I could probably swing a big ole mallet and ring the bell at a carnival.

I LOVE my dogs, I LOVE peace and quiet; I LOVE how my dogs greet me whether I am gone 5 seconds, 5 minutes or 5 hours. I LOVE my teenagers but some days I do question if dogs are better for my health.

The contents of this blog site are copyright (c) 2007, Annmarie Sparks. All Rights Reserved         

NOW that I have your attention, you are probably wondering what “Phfffft” means? Well I no longer do. Phfffft means run for cover IF you are lucky enough to hear this sound when it comes from your dog. If you don’t hear a “phfffft” sound, then it is called a ”SBD”: silent but deadly. Still unsure of what I mean? SBD and phfffft means your dog has just farted and usually does this sweet act when company is visiting your household.

Last Thanksgiving my parents and brother were driving almost 6 hours to stay with me for a whole week. I was so excited! They never visited that long before and finally could meet Max, our cute 5 month old Labradoodle. However, Max had been having digestive “issues” with different dog foods which I failed to mention (to my family). At the time, we were trying a new natural dog food that was working well except for one problem: Max was beginning to toot daily now. What did we do? First, we cut out ALL treats and bought Fabreeze to “clear” the air. There was one problem though, Dave and my teenage boys were beginning to rate them! Okay, this may be funny to some but to a woman this was horrible. How could anyone find this funny let alone rate them like it was the Olympics? I really wasn’t finding much humor in my house smelling like a bean factory. 

Solution: find another brand of dog food since I really believed Max once again wasn’t digesting some ingredient properly. Action: forget to buy new dog food and continue cleaning your house for the arrival of company while spraying Fabreeze. 

When I do housecleaning somehow I get sidetracked and what started out as simple straightening up and mopping ends up where I wash every piece of clothing, tablecloth, towels, anything in sight that is worn, sat at or slept on. Oh wait, I just saw dust bunnies, off I go on another tangent—here goes 2 hours of dusting and polishing furniture. Then I sweep and vacuum. For some reason I then think, “Oh now I have to do the bathrooms”, out comes Mr Clean, then Orange Glo for the laminate floors. Somehow running to the pet store to get new dog food gets forgotten. Why? Because after cleaning everything in sight, I realize I have to get started on acorn squash, pies, and whatever else we women feel the need to make the night before Thanksgiving. Thus, my parents and brother are due to arrive any minute and Max is now delivering SBD’s at a more frequent rate and I am furiously spraying every room with Fabreeze while Dave and my teenagers are giggling.

My family arrives and within 10 minutes of being in our house Max is letting one rip every 5 to 10 minutes for the first hour. Each time we would move away, sometimes to the next room, to no avail. YES, Max followed us each and every time.  I would nonchalantly spray the Fabreeze acting like nothing out the ordinary was going on and ask my parents to continue talking. Finally, we could not take it any longer and I sprayed Max with the Fabreeze!  By now everyone was holding their stomach in pain from laughter. This went on for 4 days nonstop. YES Dave and I managed to go to the store and purchase a different brand of dog food. Needless to say during my parents’ visit we used over a half a bottle of Fabreeze in my house. Max was a big hit in more ways than one. The jokes that erupted when Dave and I tried to state that Labradoodles do not have a “doggy” odor, always smelling fresh and clean amongst their other admirable traits, fell on deaf ears. We couldn’t be heard above the sound of laughter coming from my whole family. 

The other good one is when you are watching a movie with 2 teenage boys, a fiancé and our doodle, Max. One night I kept saying, “OK who did it? I want you to stop right now and also leave the room. That is not very nice you know and really bad manners.” So we go through the “Blame Game”, accusing each other to releasing a SBD, with everyone laughing so hard saying, “I didn’t do it”.  Seriously, these were real bad! Tears would come to your eyes, blankets had to be held over heads to find fresh air, and yes laughter erupted spontaneously. What we didn’t realize was that the SBD culprit was laying on the floor by our feet. Okay, I had switched Max onto his new dog food so I figured it wasn’t him—-wrong! Because when we finally were all silent we could hear a little “phfffft” and I start the “Blame Game” again. This went on and off for approximately a half hour. Finally, we look down and hear Max going “phfffft ”. Once again I was on the mad hunt for the Fabreeze as maybe they weren’t that silent this time but they sure were deadly. Eventually, we found the right dog food for Max. The Fabreeze bottle is gathering dust at the moment, thankfully I might add. 

My family and I now find other ways in life to obtain laughter as Max tolerates his food quite well. SBD’s are no longer a daily event from Max. However, every so often I do hear the “phffft” sound. Seems last Christmas, Dave thought it would be funny to buy my teenage boys a fart machine you hide under a chair and activate with a remote control.     

The contents of this blog site are copyright (c) 2007, Annmarie Sparks. All Rights Reserved.                   
      

For at least 5 years I told my teenagers,” NO MORE dogs! And I MEAN IT!” Besides, I was a Mom who stood by her word, walked tall and proud known for using my infamous expression when I’ve had enough, “End of subject!” There I really was the Head of Household as that is the box I check on my tax forms. The only dog I ever was going to have was a Labradoodle ever since reading and seeing a picture of one. They were gorgeous, good for people that have allergies, their eyes so expressive, and they were being used as service dogs. Intelligence was stated as being high, temperament as loving, and the list of desirable traits continuous. Sounds too good to be true? Almost, as the average price was anywhere from $1500 to $2000. Ok, reality check happens when sticker shock is before your eyes. NO Labradoodle for this family as I could not afford it. Whew, I was safe and could stay a Mom that does not go back on her word…NO more dogs! 

My teenagers barely remember that I used to foster stray and rescue dogs (and cats) in in the past, starting when I was only 9 years old. I had my fill of dogs and wanted a break in life. Why not, what’s wrong with that? Actually nothing until you have a fiancé and 3 teenagers working on you day in day out, year round. Being a person with a reasonable amount of common sense and humor, I would ask them.” Which letter of the word NO don’t you understand? The N or the O?” and laugh while walking away.   

Warning: when out at country diner do NOT read the newspaper NOR let your significant other read pet ads. It can make you eat your words. Do NOT agree to make a simple call to pacify a dog wanter’s request. NOR say the words,” We’ll just look so you can get this out of your system. And we are NOT taking home a dog “. When at a breeder’s do NOT pick up a puppy! There should be a warning label on a breeder’s door in red lettering stating: WARNING: ONCE you enter you will lose all sense of logic and reality. You will feel lightheaded, giddy, smile wide and may even start to use baby talk. Statistics show 3 out of 4 people cannot resist puppy eyes, breath, bodies and their other cute ways. There is no known cure but to take home a puppy.  

Did I listen to the warning bells going off in my head like the Robot in Lost in Space going “DANGER DANGER?” NO! Besides, my breeder failed to have a warning sign up over her door. So now without realizing it, I was entering at my own risk, falling in love wearing rosy colored glasses while trying to stay strong. When the breeder was out of hearing distance I do remember whispering to Dave, “These puppies are huge. And I don’t want that black one. He’s too old, she said he’s 13 weeks old! He looks like more like a Labrador Retriever. ” That said I smugly thought I was safe and hey I’ll play along letting Dave get his fill thinking he’d agree with me and go home within 20 minutes. 

Wrong! Dave and the breeder knew what they were doing and my blonde highlights got brighter putting my brain into puppy stimulation mode rather than think logically and stick to your word mode. Memories of the work of puppies somehow faded or got lost in my subconscious. Puppies look so innocent but they know just what they’re doing. Believe me, our Max had me pegged the moment I walked through the barn door. So did my breeder. Dave asks me to just look at him and test his temperament as I know more than him in this area. Max kept following us being ever so quiet, calm and giving the “aren’t I the cutest dog you’ve even seen” look. So I pick him up. He is like a rag doll in my arms being placid. Oh no, he licked me. I quickly put him down. Whew, that was a close call. But curiosity got the better of me as I saw other puppies being wild and this one just quietly following us and sitting down if I turned around giving the ever so sweet innocent I need a home look. So what do I do? Pick him up and test his temperament. This puppy is passing 100% plus extra points. Okay I have to find something wrong with him and save face. Next I check his teeth, his eyes, his stance, etc. Aha, he has a stumpy tail!  Wait a minute. He has the same crookedness as a Bull Mastiff I had as a little girl! That sold the deal and I actually said the words, “OKAY DAVE we’ll take him home with us.” So much for sticking by my word. Then again, isn’t it a woman’s prerogative to change her mind? 

Once home we bathe this cute, stinky, black, no name puppy as he was raised in a barn with horses. Now we have a clean puppy who didn’t come with instructions and has no name. So begins the task of naming a brand new puppy. Dave doesn’t like any of the names I pick out and thinks mine are sissy ones and his are better. We are now politely disagreeing on names. Isn’t naming a dog supposed to be fun while you pour over tons of names doing numerous internet searches for days on end?  So, what do you name a puppy that will come the first time you say it? Seriously, what dog knows its name instantly? Talk about being in shock when I heard Dave say,” come here MAX” and Max came right to him!  Max now has a name. Ok one problem solved and we move to the next: Where is Max going to sleep?

I look at the crate and now not only have a doodle giving me the saddest eyes but Dave is too. Also, I have never crated trained a dog in my entire life, nor Dave. Max cries like he was being murdered once he is put in the crate and Dave takes him out saying he cannot bear to hear Max cry and “he’s lonely honey and he needs to be close to us”. I suggest a clock and/or radio to go beside the crate and one of our shirts can go inside the crate. Well, I did hear you start crate training the first night you bring home a puppy. So, I was following advice others had told me. Guess what? Dave and Max spent the night on the living floor sleeping together like babies while went upstairs to sleep alone in a king sized bed. I tried reading a book to overcome my newfound loneliness in sleeping alone.   

The following night, same thing happens.  Max howls once put into his brand new crate. Dave carries him upstairs and puts him in our bed? It was pointed out to me that we have a king sized bed and poor Max needs to be comforted while he adjusts to us and his new home. Come on, Max was used to sleeping on a barn floor with dirt and hay. So where do you think Max chooses to sleep on our bed? Right in between Dave and I with his head on my pillow and falls asleep within seconds! Little did I realize is that when a doodle sees comfort they go for it lock, stock, and barrel! Max slept on our bed at our feet and every night thereafter while his crate collected dust. Maybe I should just store my newspapers in there till garbage day? Because for the time being that was the only way I saw the crate being used. 

With each passing night, little did I know that Man’s best friend was also to become mine too. Max not only entered our home and lives but our hearts as well.  

So begins life with Max our doodle : the black, labby looking, stumpy crooked tailed Labradoodle puppy no one wanted until Dave and I saw him.   

The contents of this blog site are copyright (c) 2007, Annmarie Sparks. All Rights Reserved.                  

First of all I am Annmarie, mother to 3 teenagers and now 2 doodles: Max a Labradoodle, and Peanut a Goldendoodle. Oh yeah, I have a very understanding, Doodle-loving fiancé, Dave.  We live in Upstate NY on 6 acres and in a home that is too big. I am no longer 21 nor over the hill. Rather, I am right in the middle of what I call “the comfort “zone.  A time in your life when your children are somewhat grown up and more independent but you can blackmail them to do wash and dishes. Leftovers are no longer left over more than a few hours. They are now responsible enough to be left alone without worrying they will kill each other or break something. Or get the dreaded call from a neighbor about a party going on in your house while you are out to dinner. Schedules are more flexible. My chauffeuring days are easing up as I have 2 teenagers that somehow managed to get their drivers license, though to this day I wonder if they bribed motor vehicles or someone felt sorry for me. Mopped floors stay clean and shiny.  Phone messages are not only taken but sales calls are no longer handed to me as my teenagers devised creative ways to say no or get the salesperson to hang up on them. Life is getting easier, I can take time to smell the roses, weed and mulch my gardens, paint my house and even have a cup of coffee in peace in the morning. So, if it isn’t broke, why fix it? 

I had 1001 reasons why not to have a dog again.  Being a mother I am the ruler, the rule maker, heck I have a list of ‘Mom’s Commandments” to follow which my teenagers and fiancé giggle about behind my back. We were NOT going to have another dog for a very long time or something like “till hell freezes over” if I recall correctly. Besides, I have bad allergies and one teenager has severe asthma on top of his allergies. And let’s not forget what dogs do : they don’t come housebroken rather they break in your home as they pee and poop, they chew, they bark at nothing, they stink, they sniff areas I won’t mention, they wipe their wet mouths on your lap, they steal food whenever possible especially steaks hot off the grill,  need I continue? Those once clean shiny floors fade right before your very own eyes to be replaced with paw prints with scattered slalom water trails intermixed with mud and dog fur. Getting up at 6am to walk a dog in 2 feet of snow with a wind chill factor of 20 below zero just to watch steam rise from a firm poop in pristine snow is not my idea of fun. 

So how did I end up with 2 doodles? Honestly, I wouldn’t go back and change a thing but somehow on October 7, 2006 a nice, sunny, warm, breezy, fall Saturday a Labradoodle managed to squirm into my heart and life. Years ago I read about how the Labradoodle came into existence. However they had a hefty price tag attached to their collars. Thus that ended that…that is till the day Dave pointed to an ad for a Labradoodle at a ridiculously low price in our own town while having breakfast at a diner. Now my first thought was, “yeah right”. Dave has been known to use his quiet sweet demeanor to pull the wool over my eyes when I least expect it. So to humor him I decide to read this ad thinking maybe it’s a joke. It  wasn’t! My bluff has just been called. Somehow I fell for the “why not just call? ” and next thing I am talking to the breeder whose name is also Annmarie. Warning bells did not ring. Oh wait, the breeder is running errands all day like us and won’t be home until dinner time, just like us. Another warning bell I failed to hear. At 5pm we drive 4 miles from my house to see a Labradoodle that Dave and I agreed to “just look” and NOT take home.  Long story short: she had an older, easy going, laid-back 13 week old black puppy with a crooked stumpy tail. I didn’t want a black, older, labby looking puppy. The breeder whispers: “Black doesn’t show dirt, you know” and quietly walks away. I do all the temperment testing and this puppy is too good to be true. Somehow 2 hours later this older black 30lb puppy was in Dave’s arms  while I was writing a check and getting his shot records. What did i just do? My head was spinning, I kept nodding yes to the breeder not hearing all her instructions as all I could see was a mile wide smile on Dave’s face as this huge Labradoodle puppy licked him to death.

Next we’re off to the local Wal-Mart to buy puppy supplies and a crate. I swore Dave wore roller blades as he got out in record time. Max had lived in a barn and believe me, he stunk! When Dave got back to the car all he could see was Max and me sticking our heads out the window competing for fresh air. My kids were unaware they won the battle of getting a dog as they were away for the weekend. Once home, my kids kept asking, “Okay Mom, whose dog is it? And how long are you watching this dog? As we know you would never get a dog.” It took several weeks for them to believe Max was to be a part of our family. Life was grand, Max stuck by our side, and easily trained. End of story, right? NOPE. 

The breeder and I became friends so when she had her first Goldendoodle litter, I gladly accepted helping her to socialize them. What was I thinking?  Somehow there may have been a point I socialized too much with the puppies because on February 9, 2007 we had doodle number two.  Peanut, a 9 week old Goldendoodle managed to come home with us and be Max’s playmate and now my teenagers thought I really had lost all my sanity. (I didn’t have the heart to tell them they caused me to lose my sanity, not a doodle). On the 3rd day Peanut managed to climb out of a 2.5ft high pen and to this day is still a little Houdini. My life has changed in more ways than one; we have a two signs hanging on our dining room walls that say, “another day in PARADISE” and the other one, “Thou Shalt Not Whine”. Between those 2 signs and our two doodles our sense of humor has risen to heights unimaginable. Never a Dull Moment and Poop Happens are two mottos we live by daily, laughter is plentiful as well as kisses and love. My life will never be the same again and I couldn’t be happier. 

Dogs show us daily something humans are incapable of: unconditional love. As much as I think I am teaching my doodles there are many days they teach me with their expressive,soulful eyes, comical antics, and wet bearded kisses, pouring on as much love as they can without asking for anything in return but loving them back while they steal your socks at any given moment.

So why not sit back, grab a cup of tea and enjoy reading about LIFE with 2 Doodles and how I went from 1001 reasons why not to get a dog and ended up with two doodles.