Puppy Mania (part 1)

At the end of the school year, I was the over the top excited, but it wasn’t because school was almost over for the year. It was actually because the day after school ended, I was getting a puppy. Or, maybe, if I got lucky, two! I was eleven, and I wanted sixth grade to end faster than I had ever wanted school to end before. But, my parents were the only people that kept me from exploding. “It’s a big responsibility,” they kept saying. And I’m not saying I didn’t listen to them, I did. It’s just that I wanted that puppy so badly, that I only really half absorbed what they were saying, and I only believed half of what I heard. So, you could say, I really only understood one quarter of what I was getting myself into.1

That special, unexpected day, I slid into the car after school, reluctant to spend the rest of my day doing homework. But then my mom said; “Kathryn, today is a special day. We are going to look at puppies in a town called Grafton. Ok? ” My jaw completely dropped, no exaggeration. I wasn’t believing this whole thing. I was so disbelieving that I double checked with myself about whether is was April Fool’s Day, or whether I was, in fact, dreaming. After that split second of silence, when I was collecting myself, I could not keep quiet the entire rest of the car ride. I was exploding with questions like; “What are some names you are thinking about Mom?” and, “Where are they going to sleep?” and the classic, “Are we there yet?”. I was just completely pumped up and ecstatic. And once we were there, I tried my best to not harass the breeder with questions about how to take care of this special breed, the Vizsla. I wasn’t going to trust anyone but myself to take care of these creatures. There was a catch to all of this though. We could get them if –and ONLY if- I was not allergic to them, seeing as I am allergic to almost everything. As a test, I literally had to sit on the floor, and let them lick me, and rub against me, and tug my hair. I didn’t mind at all, all I cared about was the hope that I would be able to live with two of these wonderful dogs. After a whole 45 minutes of this, I stood up, for an inspection by “the mom”. And boy did she inspect me. Head to toe. And it turned out there was nothing to be seen. Mom said we had to go, and told the breeder we’d be back on Friday to pick up our new puppy or puppies. “I’ll call you tonight about whether it’s one or two.” My mother said cheerfully. “Okay,” The breeder replied. And this time, I bounced into the car, and off we drove. And the day would have ended perfectly, if my mother hadn’t turned around and said to me; “You know your sister has wanted a dog, so can you keep this a secret until Friday?” “Oh, sure Mom, no problemo.” I said, using the new phrase that my little sister had taught me. In fact, keeping this secret was going to be more of a “problemo” than I thought.2