And You Thought You Knew it All.... Part 2

I blogged yesterday about all of the important life lessons that my boxers have taught me.  Today's blog post is going to be specifically about Lucy.  You may think you know why I'm blogging on this topic, but just in case you might be wrong, let me do some splainen'.

When I adopted my first boxer, I had no idea of the ways that it would change me forever, and for the better.  While I happen to adore my boxers, and think the world of them and their quirky little ways, I realize that not every human is right for a boxer.  But, what I think is important here is not necessarily what the passion is, but that everyone, at this point in their lives, really needs to have something that they're passionate about.  For me, it just happens to be my boxers.  Not only have my boxers enriched my life in many unimaginable ways, but they have also connected to me a whole new group of people.  In the 5 years that I have been mothering Lucy, I have made many absolutely, positively, amazing friendships, and those friends also happen to be boxer parents. I have become involved with Florida Boxer Rescue, and Greater Ohio Boxer Rescue.  My participation in these organizations has given me a sense of completion and fulfillment that nothing else ever has.  I will never be monetarily compensated for my efforts, but my work with rescue brings something to the table that no paycheck could ever match....And so there you have it.  My reason for blogging about my boxers, as if I really needed one...

The decision to become a boxer parent was not made without great consideration.  Before I ever called a breeder, I did my homework.  At first I was very put off by the fact that this was a large bodied breed, and I was a small dog person.  The more that I read, and the more that I learned the more intrigued I became by the characteristics of this breed.  Most of all I was intrigued by the one fact that everyone seemed to agree on... boxers are clowns, from the time they're born till the time that they pass.  I clearly was lacking silliness in my life.... just like when your body needs iron, and craves it.  I was craving some comic relief.

I swear, I have never been so excited over something in my life.  The day that I committed to raising Lucy was the start of something very special.  Like any expectant mother, I began to prepare.  I had 6 weeks until I could bring Lucy home.  Before work, after work, during work, my life became a whirlwind of activity... we were going to be parents and we had to be ready.  I remember looking at the bookshelf that had become "Lucy Central", lined with toys, books, treats, blankets, and I'm sure many other things that I've forgotten and saying "Finally, we're ready!"  to which my husband retorted, "Ya, think?  Petco is empty!"

I can honestly say that while I'm sure I've forgotten a lot of the juicy details of my preparations for Lucy, I will never forget the "glow".  Someone who knew me well, with a grin that went from ear to ear, commented that I was "glowing".  "Are you expecting?"  I happily replied that, "yes, we are!", pulled out my phone and proceeded to show this lady a picture of Lucy.  The anticipation of bringing Lucy home was actually making me glow... The look of pure shock on this woman's face, was completely unforgettable.  I'm sure she thought I had lost my mind, but I was in love.

I spent hours at the breeders home in the weeks prior to bringing her home.  I couldn't get enough of Lucy, and her litter mates.  The breeder joked with me and said that if I kept it up, they were going to be able to claim me as a dependent.

No matter how many books I read, or how many people I consulted, there was nothing that really could have prepared me for the challenges that I would face "Bringing Up Lucy".  My puppy parenting had been limited to a basset hound, and frankly, there's just no comparison.  While I adored my basset, going from a basset to a boxer is like going from a Yugo to a Lamborghini with no clue that the Lamborghini actually has power...

Lucy was smart, energetic, and very head strong.  But, none of that deterred me.  Lucy and I were inseparable for the first year of her life.  She went everywhere I went, and did everything I did.  Every day, Lucy and I went to work.  She shared my office with me, although, she was never very happy with that crate.  I have fond memories of working on my computer with a sleeping boxer in my lap, and a very funny memory of attempting to navigate Home Depot with a boxer puppy in the buggy.

Yes, Lucy was definitely challenging me.  And tough love, well it wasn't my strong suite.  That little face was a constant distraction from my pre-planned course of action.  And although, no one would ever say that I was a strong Alpha, I was seriously motivated to make Lucy into a proper boxer girl.  I was headstrong too!  The fact that she could wiggle her way out of every single seat belt contraption that I ever purchased, and I would ultimately end up attempting to drive a 6 speed with a boxer in my lap, well, that never stopped from me trying.

Trouble had a way of finding Lucy.  It literally clung to my sweet little boxer girl.  No bag, no box, no envelope was safe in our home.  And forget about shoes with shoe strings, that was a real challenge.  Dirt seemed to draw her to it like a magnet to metal.  Would it ever stop?  Lucy's father had started calling her "LUCIFER" and she did everything she possibly could to live up to the name!

What was a boxer mom to do?  Well, boot camp was our only option.  Except that true to her breed, Lucy had to be the class clown, and we were asked, albeit politely, to leave puppy school.  Apparently, the boxer shenanigans that Lucy was very good at, were way too distracting to the other puppies in the class... and parents were complaining.

With the gossip around Pittsburgh flying rampantly about "Lucy the Boxer", I had no choice but to "home school" Lucy.  Over the course of the next several months, the shelves in the library filled with books on training boxers.  We spent countless hours, attempting how to walk like a lady on a leash... to no avail.  Our only accomplishments during the next several months were "sit" and "shake".  And for reasons that escape me, for some reason, Lucy had it in her head that the "COME, LUCY" command instead meant, run and hide and make your mother chase you all over the place.  "HEEL, LUCY" meant lie down on the ground, and burrow into the ground, and refuse to move. "NO, LUCY" was code for wiggle like a crazy maniac until you fall over and your human cries from laughing too hard.  She honestly thought that "LUCY, NO!" was her name.

Yet, Lucy and I were still inseparable.  I refused to give up.  I was learning that even when it's tough, you have to steer the course... and although I cussed a lot then, I now understand that the best things in life, often require the most work.  Every day, every hour that I spent with Lucy only made me fall even more in love with her.

We spent countless hours in the yard with Lucy attempting to rid her wriggling little body of some that energy.  I walked miles every day with her in hopes that she would figure out that the idea of a leash was to walk politely beside her mother, and not really a game of tug of war.  We became a constant fixture in the plaza parking lot where the store was.  I'm sure they were saying "There they go again..."  But, it didn't matter... everyone loved Lucy!  She made friends everywhere she went, humans, dogs, squirrels, rabbits, kittens, possums, raccoons.....

My creativity levels were definitely tested.  Wearing out a boxer puppy is not for the faint of heart.  But, I found that the more creative I got with Lucy, the more fun that she and I had, and at the end of the day, not only were we both tired, but we were both happy.  My husband constantly laughed at Lucy and I, and the day that he watched our "antics" and said, "Awe, a girl and her puppy", I knew that my life had been forever altered.  The bond between me and my boxer was set in stone.... And I found myself constantly loving life.  Lucy was a part of everything that I did...There was nothing that went on in our home that Lucy was not aware of.  She became a part of every activity that we took part in, and we came to enjoy having Lucy along for the ride.

Although we settled into a routine with Lucy, something was missing.  I had grown quite good at finding ways to entertain Lucy, and she was of course a master at ways to entertain her human.

She positively loved the dog park, and her evening romps with the boxer boy next door.  But, in a way that's hard to explain, I somehow sensed that Lucy was lonely.  While her humans were never that far away, or gone for that long, she really seemed to love other dogs, although she very clearly loved her humans too!

I was hell bent on "completing" Lucy in the same manner that she had "completed" her human.  But, my husband thought I was insane.  2 boxers?  Have you lost your mind?  Look at the constant state of chaos with 1 boxer.  While I had grown to adore the constant state of chaos that Lucy brought to our home... my husband was going to require much more convincing...

...To be continued (although, if you know me, you already know how this story goes...)

And You Thought You Knew it All!

Nearly 5 years ago, I picked a gorgeous, fiesty, wiggly flashy fawn boxer from a litter and then went home to attempt to hide from my now husband, the fact that I had already claimed her as mine.  Frankly, I'm a horrifically horrible liar, so I don't believe for a minute that when I said that I had "just looked" that my husband was in the dark about my little white lie, but he gets a lot of credit for making me think that he believed me; one of many reasons why I love my darling husband so much!  Little did I know at the time that I brought her home, the lessons she would teach me.  And I wasn't thinking of all the schooling that her brother, Duke would do on me either when I signed on the dotted line a year later.

But, the other day, as I reflected on how much I have grown in the last 5 years, I couldn't help but realize that my 2 boxers have taught me a lot of very important lessons.  Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that another breed can't teach their parents important life lessons.  They can, but for me, becoming a boxer parent was a perfect fit, they are the perfect breed for my temperament, lifestyle and personality and because of this perfect fit, I can surmise that I have been more open to the lessons that they have to teach me.  This could probably be about 10 different blog posts...

1.  Responsibility:  I never considered myself an irresponsible person, but caring for another living, breathing creature, will make you grow up very quickly and become even more responsible (especially an energetic, wild boxer puppy). Making sure that Lucy and Duke had everything they needed to live a long, happy, healthy life quickly became one of my top priorities.  This was not without it's rewards.  I learned very quickly that the happier my boxers were, the happier they made me.  I can never remember a time when I have thought to myself that taking care of them was a chore, they rely on me, and they depend on me, and they always reward me for taking care of them!

2.  It's okay to get a little mud on the tires, or drool on the windows,  It's nearly impossible to share a home with 2 boxers and not have a little drool on the windows, walls, floors, and every article of clothing that they come in contact with.  I remember my mother commenting shortly after we adopted Lucy that she couldn't believe that I was laughing over Lucy spraying drool all over my newly painted wall.  Everything does not always have to be perfect... and no, my windows that Lucy and Duke can reach, are never clean, because frankly, they seem to get a lot of pleasure out of licking windows, and boxer drool isn't easy to remove.  My two boxer children adore dirt, and yes, sometimes they decide to bring it in the house with them.  But, that's okay, for the joy of my children, these are things that I can accept, and things that I can brush off with a giggle.

3.  Sometimes in life, you're going to get the wind knocked out of you.  But, you have to get back up, shake it off (or wiggle it off, in this case) and get back to business.  Lucy was a wee tiny thing the day that she took a flying leap off of the deck and took 5 years off of her mothers life.  I went running, and found Lucy on all 4 paws, shaking it and wiggling it off.  I swear, she probably thought that was fun, although she never did it again, so maybe not.  And I can't tell you how many times Duke has hit his head on the sliding glass door because he thought it was open.  Boom!  Smack!  He jumps right up, shakes it off and keeps on trucking.  I swear these incidents are much more traumatic for me than they are for my children.  This was something that I became very good at over the last year.  I had a lot of bad days, and a lot of bad news in a very short period of time.  I couldn't believe how good I had gotten at brushing it off and moving on... although, I don't wiggle nearly as much as my boxer children do (or at least I don't think I do).

4.  Laughter is good, laughter is really good.  It's okay to be silly and laugh at yourself!  And it is most certainly okay to make other people laugh, actually, it's kind of fun!  This was a hard lesson for me to learn, thankfully, boxers are pretty relentless when it comes to their efforts to make people laugh.  Lucy & Duke have had their work cut out for them, but I can honestly say that they have done an excellent job with me on this one.  I don't take myself nearly as seriously as I did prior to being trained by my boxers.   It took about 4 years for my children to teach me this lesson and make sure that I had it down pat.  I think that they would both say that I could be an honorary boxer... And as all of my loyal readers can probably attest to, this last year was a certainly a test of my new found, boxer induced sense of humor.  As I have said so many times, I honestly believe that my sense of humor was kept me afloat over the last year, and I really have my boxers to thank for whipping it into such great shape.   Thanks to these two clowns, I have mastered the art of giggling on a regular basis.

5.  Most importantly, when you love, love with your whole darn heart.  When you love, love without judgement.  When you love, love every single day, even the bad days.  Always, forgive quickly, and forget about it.  Show your love in every single way that your little heart can dream up.  My boxer children don't care when I'm grumpy; they still love me.  My boxer children don't care when I work my tail off and don't do everything they want to do; they still love me.  My boxer children don't care when I forget to reorder their marrow bones, okay, they do care, but only for a few minutes.

These two boxers have taught me so much about life and love it's honestly incredible.  I seriously never thought I could be so in love with an animal, but these furry, soft, wiggly, silly little goof balls, have a very special place in my heart.  Not only for all of the things that they've taught me that I may not have learned otherwise so early on in life, but for all of the joy that they bring on a an everyday basis.  There is nothing that cannot be made to seem less traumatic by a boxer kiss, or a boxer wiggle.

I Didn't Know I Had It In Me...

I have been a volunteer with boxer rescue since we adopted Duke 4 years ago.  I mostly stuck to home visits, owner surrenders, fundraising and writing.  Mostly, behind the scenes stuff.  I had a reason for this, a reason that up until recently, I thought was very valid.  You see, I'm a softie.  I'm a big hearted gal, that doesn't take things lightly.  I didn't think that I could walk into a shelter and "pull" a dog.

About 2 months ago, the area coordinator for 407 sent out a plea for someone to be the liaison between Florida Boxer Rescue and The Osceola County Animal Services.   It's close to home, and no one else seemed to be stepping up to the plate, so you know me, I thought "What the heck?  What's involved?"  The coordinator's exact words to me, "It hardly ever happens...." The way that this would work is if they get a boxer in, they would call us (me) and ask me to come take a look at the dog and evaluate the boxer.  I would then take the information back to the pull committee and get permission to "pull" the boxer.  Despite the fact that I don't do well in animal shelters, I accepted the post.

Earlier this week, I got an email about a heart worm positive brindle boy.  1st thing Saturday morning, I was in the car driving to OCAS.  I cannot lie, I was scared to death to walk in there.  I knew the sight of all of those abandoned animals in cages was going to be a huge heartbreaker for me.  But, I also had committed myself to doing it.  Besides, if I can kick cancer's ass, I should be able to walk through an animal shelter right?

So, in I went.  My first meeting with the brindle boy was heart breaking.  He was scared to death and very skittish.  He was skinny, and scared.  I didn't want to leave him there, but I didn't have a foster home lined up for him, so I had no choice.  I drove him with the wheels in my head spinning like crazy.  I immediately posted to our volunteer group, and our adoption committee... I wanted a firm plan to have him out by Monday morning at the latest, even though I didn't want to leave him there over the weekend.

The next few hours were a complete miracle.  Angels came out of no where, and before I knew it, I was back in the car and headed for OCAS to get the brindle boy out.  We had a foster home!  I wasn't sure the boy was going to come with me, he seemed so terrified.  But, I grabbed the leash, looked at him and said "You're out here, sweetie!  Let's go!"  He hopped in the car and sat right up!

I won't lie, he slept most of the way to Tampa.  When we got there, I really wanted to spend a little quality time with him, and the foster family was stuck in traffic, so it all worked out.  I put the tailgate down, he hopped right up, and I followed.  We spent the next 25 minutes in the back of the pickup truck, it didn't take him long at all to curl right up in my lap!  By the time his foster family arrived, we were good friends.  He was wiggling, and happy and definitely acting like a boxer boy!  And he had a name by that point.  His foster mom suggested "KIRBY" and it definitely fit him.

It was hard to let him go, I was definitely enamored with him.  But, I knew he was going to a wonderful home where he will get lots of love, tons of food, and the medical treatment that he needs.  Golly, what a difference 8 hours makes.  I was thrilled to receive a text from his foster family last evening that he was settling in well, and had a nice hot bath!  The perfect end to the perfect day.

Welcome to FBR, Kirby!