About half-way through law school, I decided I wanted a dog of my own. A dog that would love me like Thing 1 loved J. The fall of my third year of law school, I began the search for Thing 2. I debated breeds, researched breeders, called breeders and owners. Around Thanksgiving, I found the breeder. She was located twelve hours away, had glowing references and health clearances. I was a poor law student, so I picked up a job to pay for the puppy and related expenses.
Thing 2 was born in January. For eight weeks, I lived for the pictures of Thing 2 that we received from the breeder. I watched him grow from a tiny little puppy into an adorable fluff-ball. Finally, the week arrived to pick-up Thing 2. I planned all week. I did our final puppy shopping: adorable toys, a puppy dog bed (that lasted all of a day), puppy shampoo and rug shampoo. I was ready.
J and I got up at three in the morning to make the twelve hour drive to the breeder's house. I remember sitting in the breeder's kitchen, waiting for the puppy -- my puppy -- to be brought from the down stairs puppy den. I saw the door open, and a twelve pound ball of fluff attacked my face with a flurry of kisses. Finally, Thing 2 was mine, and after two seconds, I was completely wrapped around his paw. Then, Thing 2 got the hiccups and settled into my lap as we received instructions on his care.
Thing 2 slept in my lap the entire ride home (and then refused to sleep when we finally got home). I remember looking down at him and being deliriously happy with my new puppy. That semester, I rigged my schedule to be home more. I would race home to spend time with Thing 2. I would walk him through our neighborhood as he pranced and fawned at the attention from everyone. He would get scared easily as a puppy and would race to me for comfort.
After I started at the firm, he would wait up for me on nights that I had to work late. When I walked through the door, he would snort at me, walk upstairs and then ignore me. The next morning he would be sitting in front of me, just waiting for me to wake up. I had been forgiven.
Thing 2 loved to sleep next to me on the bed. He loved to go to my family house in the country and tear around the yard and then collapse in a heap. He was the typical younger brother to Thing 1. He would wait for her to fall asleep and then pounce or sit on her head, depending on his mood. When I would get sick, he never left my side. Even though he easily weighed 105, he thought he was a lap dog and would huff down on my lap whenever I sat on the ground.
When I finally became pregnant last summer, he was gentle and more protective. He loved me like Thing 1 loved J, and I loved him right back.