Our baby pup is here, our baby pup is here! This little cattle dog boxer mix's homecoming has been in the works for a verrrrrrrrrrrry long time. Let me repeat: a. very. long. time. And according to a few facebook comments I got when we announced there was a new Cisneros in the bunch, I've apparently been talking about him for longer than I realized (hello, friends I haven't seen in years who said things along the lines of, "FINALLY")! Haha! Needless to say, little Snow's arrival has left us beaming like crazy folk.
The facts! Okay, after we decided to go with a puppy as opposed to a 2 or 3 year old doggy, we thought there may have been a chance we would go with a breeder. We've been in loooove with goldendoodles for a good chunk of married life, so that was what we were thinking. The only thing was, those little dudes are pricey (for good reason! Total BA's, they are). In response to that, I follow a few rescues on Instagram, and have always loved the one we got Snow from, but just never thought that we would find a puppy at a facility, especially not of a breed we were interested in. Anyhoo, when I saw that Snow and his two sisters were going to be up for adoption on THE EXACT DAY we wanted to adopt, I showed Chad that the two breeds we both individually loved outside of goldens were going to be made available (cattle dog for Chad and boxer for me). I literally walked outside to where Chad and Carter were playing hockey, showed him my phone with Snow's picture on it and said, "these guys are available June 13th." Chad said, "alright, let's do it," and that was that!!!!
So anyway, on June 13th I went grocery shopping in the morning, leaving Chad and the kids to clean up the house. There was not one lonesome Lego piece anywhere. Barbie shoes? PUT AWAY! It was a small miracle - apparently it takes the adoption of a dog to get a house fully clean. Then I left the house at 10:00 to wait in line for our pup, with the adoption center not opening until 12:00 pm. When I rolled up, there were people outside camping waiting for their own pups. I texted Chad that elbows will be thrown if anyone is after our baby. Tackling an old lady was not below me. I took a seat at the end of the line next to a nice dad and his 9 year old daughter, who told me that I'm 6th in line out of 12 adoptable puppies, 6 of which being terriers that we were not interested in. It was a strange sort of torture. We were all being so polite to each other but judging by my own inner feelings of wanting to carve anyone's eyes out if they were a threat to Cisneros #5, I can only guess they felt the same about me. The dad asked me which pup I was interested in, to which I answered "Minnie," one of Snow's sisters. He told me that that is the pup his daughter was interested in. I let loose a nice fake laugh, then texted Chad that I may have to punch a 9 year old.
Anyway, after sitting in that line for 2 hours studying the available puppies on their website, Chad and I concluded that we were A-OK with all of the larger breed puppies available that day (the 3 cattle/boxer babes or the 3 german shephard/newfoundland mixed bebes). So it was all good in the hood! Luckily the cattles got there first, and the three of us who were interested in them got to look before anyone else, even though we were numbers 4th, 5th and 6th in line. #4 picked up Minnie, then the dad told me that they were going to go with the other girl, which was completely fine with me because Moe (the name his foster mom gave him) was my favorite looking anyway! When I was creeping on his pictures pre-June 13th, I wished that he was one of the girls because we thought we were set on female, but after I held him like a literal baby for the hours after picking him up out of his crate, I was so happy for a little dude! He is so fun and awesome and freaking handsome with his cattle dog spots.
And then his name. We are crazy Game of Thrones people, and on the morning of the adoption, I told Chad that I thought if we did end up getting a boy that we should name him Snow, because any male dog of ours would definitely be a Lord Commander. Jon Snow and our possible boy dog would for sure be best friends. So he agreed, and when we got a guy who's foster mom had named him something which rhymed with Snow, we decided to make it stick. The next night we watched the season finale of GOT, an episode I was very much looking forward to so we can show Snow what a badass his best friend is. Well. Jon Snow was MURDERED in the last few minutes of the episode. MUR. DERED!!!!!!!!!!! I felt like an inferno was ablaze inside my body. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! NO JON SNOW, NO!!!!!!!!" Literal crazy yells coming from us. As it was happening, I thought to myself, "wow, if anything's been learned from this show, it's to not become too obsessed with any one character," BUT STILL. The humanity!!!!!!! THE HUMANITY.
Ridiculous. Just ridiculous. But hey, I guess there can only be one true Jon Snow, a real Lord Commander if there ever was one, and we've got him right here at home with us. We are the luckiest!
Snow Snow was 9 weeks old when we brought him home. I will find out how much he weighs when we go in for his shots tomorrow and let me tell you, I really can't wait to officially nail down his breeds with a dog DNA test (that's really going to happen). He is just so darn amazing! Fur children, be plentiful!
^^^And I'm sorry, but does it not look like I just gave birth and Snow was placed on me for bonding? Hahaha kind of sick but based on my new fur parent feelings, it's pretty much the same thing. Haha!