And Then There Were Five
I’m not usually the kind of person who acts on impulse. Well, I admit I’ve made some decisions that might’ve appeared impulsive. Like that time I colored my hair at 3 a.m. and wound up looking goth. Or the time I agreed to take over a Brownie troop, thinking, “How hard could it be?” Sure, those might’ve looked like the acts of an impulsive person, but really–they weren’t. There was some logic involved. Like thriftiness with the hair color, using something I already had, in spite of the expiration date. Or when I said yes to the Brownies–I knew at the very worst I’d wind up with the stuff that columns are made of.
Normally, I’m a cautious person, one who plans every move, considers all the options, anticipates potential pitfalls. Except for one time each year, when I behave with reckless abandon.
I didn’t realize until last weekend that a theme had emerged regarding my annual impulsive behavior, a theme similar to a Chinese calendar (with hiccups). For instance, 2002 was The Year of the Dog (Murry), and 2003, 2004 and 2005 were each The Year of the Cat (Squirt, then Gypsy, then Sully). Now 2006 has brought us back to the dog. (So far, we’re calling him Shorty, but that could change.)
It was the last thing I intended. The very last thing. I will swear that to my dying day.
My eight-year-old daughter became obsessed with Yorkshire Terriers a few years ago, but as she’s had many passionate, yet quickly passing, fancies, I expected this to follow suit. That wasn’t the case. If anything, her desire to have one just picked up steam. She spent hours reading about them, drawing Yorkie pictures, decorating her room with anything Yorkie related that she could bat her big browns and convince someone to buy.
Finally, my husband and I agreed that if she could save the money herself, she could get one. At her age, she has no real concept of why someone should save, doesn’t grasp how long it can take or the different way you value something you worked hard to get. We thought it would be a good lesson.
And it would’ve been, too. If I wasn’t such a soft-headed, soft-hearted, spineless animal lover. One capable of falling in love at first sight.
It began innocently enough last Saturday morning, with me and Celeste killing time at Biscuit World while our car was next door getting inspected. She was playing with her Nintendo, a game called “Nintendog,” with her dog in the game being, of course, a Yorkie. Soon, she was asking (again) when she’d have enough money saved to get one of her own.
“But I have $125,” she said. “That’s a lot of money.”
“It is,” I agreed. “But it’s probably nowhere near enough.”
She refused to believe me, so to prove my point, I took her to Missy’s Pet Store in Poca. And I saw that face. Then I heard those words that always make my heart beat just a little bit faster (”marked down” and “only two left.”) 
The rest, shall we say, is spineless history. It wasn’t one of my best teaching moments as a mother, but it was certainly one when I was most adored. (Not to mention the one when I received the most promises per second. I now have them in writing, along with a payment plan and accounting of what she’s already put in.)
The one thing still bothering me is that I feel like a hypocrite, allowing her to get a full-breed when I’ve always been passionately opposed to the deliberate breeding of dogs when our shelters are full. We’d been regularly checking Petfinder.com and the shelters online and found nothing even remotely Yorkie-ish there.
Somehow, though, I feel Shorty (or whatever his name is by now) was meant to be ours. He fit right in without any major adjustments and has lived up to Celeste’s dream of what her dog would be. He follows her everywhere, sleeps snuggled close in her bed, enjoys being carried and cuddled and kissed.
So I’ve crossed “Act impulsively” off my list of Things To Do in 2006, determined that our ark doors have swung shut for good.
At least ’til next year.
NOTE: Shorty, who is now being called Teddy, is actually a Silky Terrier, which is sort of a Supersized Yorkie. When full grown, he should be between 12-15 lbs, although if he follows the trend of the other Supersized animals (and adults) at our house, he’ll be a few more than that.
March 3rd, 2006 at 9:49 pm
He is a very cute puppy. Yorkies are great. My mother in law had one that weighed about 3 lbs. and she was awesome with kids! Tell Celeste that she has a great dog!!!
March 4th, 2006 at 7:17 am
Beautiful dog you have here.
March 4th, 2006 at 4:40 pm
Thanks! He’s such a good dog. I’ve never had a small one before–always at least 35 lbs–so I’m having to get used to watching out for him. (Our cats are 13, 15 and 20 lbs, so they’re easy to see.)He’s learned how to use his small size to the, well, pain of our big dog. He gets Murry chasing him, both of them flying around the house, then he scoots under the couch–and Murry runs right into it.
March 5th, 2006 at 2:42 pm
That is too funny about him hiding under the couch. My littlest lab (65 lbs.), Zoey loves to play with my moms dachshund, Jasper. Well where Jasper is a lot smaller than Zoey, they will be running all over the place and all of a sudden, Jasper will bite her feet. He is very funny to watch!!! Also where I have 2 labs, when Jasper comes over I am always tripping over him because I am not used to something that small at my feet!
March 5th, 2006 at 4:20 pm
The getting underfoot part is tough. I’m scared to death I’m going to step on him (I have BIG feet). Today he and Murry were playing tug of war with a pom-pom hair band. That pup must’ve stung Murry on the nose with it a half dozen times. Murry never figured out that he should let go first. Outsmarted by a 3-month old…
March 5th, 2006 at 10:32 pm
Congrats on your latest edition to your household!! I’d love to have pets like that all over the place..as long as they all got along..lol!
March 6th, 2006 at 10:29 am
I agree that Yorkies are great. My mom has one. He’s 7 years old now. They definitely choose their masters. There’s a hierarchy at my parents’ house, as far as Tobey is concerned: Mom, my brother, Wayne, then Dad. Or whoever has food/a treat to share. He has his priorities. Good luck and congratulations! He’s a cutie. I never knew there was a supersized version. lol.
March 6th, 2006 at 11:45 am
Most of the time, it doesn’t feel like there are too many, and we don’t have a very big house (or yard). The only time it gets bad is about 4 am, when Sully likes to serenade us with his lovely voice. He wakes up all the animals. The only way to stop his singing is with food, so now they’re all growing accustomed to eating that early. If Sully sleeps late, someone else steps up to the plate. I feel like my animals help keep me sane. They calm me.
March 6th, 2006 at 9:21 pm
Teddy (aka Shorty) is a cutie. He reminds me of a little genetically challenged canine who was a member of our family for many years. Although Bear wasn’t a Yorkie or a Silky, he had traits of so many different breeds that in his puppy pictures he looks like Wicket the Ewok. Teddys wiry muzzle and bright eyes bring back many fond memories of Bear. We named him that for two reasons; because the kids said he looked like a little bear, and the fact that while he was truly a little dog, he had a very big attitude. It was probably the grandest case of Napolean Complex I’ve ever seen. If dogs can have delusions of grandeur, I’m sure he did! Best of luck and may you make many happy memories with your menagerie.
March 10th, 2006 at 9:39 am
Our family is a very proud owner of a yorkie too. Also, a pup that came from Missy’s. His name is Chase and will be 2years old on 4-6-2006. My family has never had a dog in the house so we have been on a roller coaster in potty training still at almost 2. He has been really a joy to our family. We have 3 teenagers Darren 7th grader at Poca Middle. KerryII and Kristin that are 9th and 12th graders at Poca High School. You would have thought they had a new brother in the house when we got him. By the way I was not asked if they could get him. The kids and my husband presented him to our house with out asking mom. We have had a few accidents with him, I dropped a frozen turkey and about squashed him. And he fell out of the pick up truck seat. *Thank goodness a vet lives 2 miles from the Casto house in Liberty. I have never seen him run so fast. Keep in mind he is 5 pounds of fur. Enjoy him as much as we do. He favors my husband the most. When I leave to go to work in the mornings and give Kerry a kiss, I get attacked. Enjoy your stories.