My Juliet

My mother passed away suddenly September 26, 2010. 

Within a week, as my dad and I struggled to acclimate to our “new normal” without mom, he decided he would let me get a puppy. I remember I immediately checked the ARL but didn’t find any dogs that would get along with our current 10-year-old miniature schnauzer, Emma. I moved on to the for sale ads in the newspaper and began to comb the page, looking at the different breeds.

My mom preferred smaller dogs, while I had wanted a bigger breed for awhile. We had previously owned two large dogs, a goldendoodle and a labradoodle, both given away by my mother without my dad and I having any say.

As I combed through the ads, I came across an ad from a farmer about an hour away. He had collie puppies for sale for under $200, which was in my budget, coincidently. I called to ask some questions and dad agreed to take me out to the farm the next day to “look” at the puppies. He had made it clear he didn’t want a new dog of his own, but it wasn’t stopping me. I had lost my mom at the age of 21. I at least deserved a puppy for it. 

We drove for an hour and a half to the farm (which seemed like it was in the middle of nowhere). The day was cool and crisp, the leaves starting to change as October was starting. We drove up to the house on the gravel drive and parked in a large, cleared area. We were greeted by the farmer and the collie parents. The collies were beautiful and all I could think was, “I am going home with Lassie!”

The farm seemed to have everything hodgpodged together; In one direction, down a path through some trees, there was a shed where the puppies were kept. Then straight in the middle was the house, and to the left was a large open barn, filled with tractor parts and random objects. It was absolutely overflowing with, what all I could gather at the time, was junk.

“You wanted to see the two females we have left?” the man asked me after he and my dad made small talk. I grinned widely and nodded. I couldn’t wait to see the puppies! “I’ll grab them and bring em’ out,” he said, and trailed off down the path of trees to the shed. 

It was later in the afternoon when we were there, so the sun was shining through the trees, spreading golden light streams all over the gravel clearing we were standing in. It was beautiful out there.

I waited patiently to see the puppies, making small talk with dad and petting the two grown collies. They had matts all over their fur, clearly outdoor farm dogs. They were extremely friendly and playful. I couldn’t get enough of them. Until I saw their little babies, that is. 

The farmer had returned up the path holding two puppies, one with white and sable fur, the other a mix of marble: sable, white, black, and brown fur. The white and sable puppy stood out to me immediately. She sat down curiously on the path next to her sister and looked right in my eyes. While her sister sniffed around and looked a little confused, she held my gaze. A ray of light was shining from behind her, highlighting the little frizzy, soft fur that seemed to glow in the afternoon light, making her whole body glow like she was surround by a body halo. 

“I want her,” I said, already knowing her name in my heart. The farmer looked at me and said, “Which one?” I lifted my hand and pointed at my angel puppy. “That one,” I said, “Juliet.”

I had spit out her name, immediately knowing it was the right one for her. “Juliet” was a character from my favorite television show, Lost, played by my favorite actress. Lost was more than just a show for me, at that time. It still is more. But THAT is another blog for another time ;)

The farmer nodded and the minute he reached down for Juliet, she took off running. My dad and I each tried to grab her but she took off for the overflowing garage. I turned around and looked at the farmer. He was as calm as can be, laughing at Juliet’s little form flying out from junk and back in again. “I’ll get her, don’t worry. Just let me put her sister back,” he said.

I started laughing with my dad as we watched the dad dog go after Juliet in the garage and the mom stayed by our side. We didn’t even attempt to go back and look in the garage. It had “death trap” written all over it. The farmer was back within seconds and immediately took to the garage. I think it took him maybe five minutes to catch up with Juliet and grab her by the scruff. I handed my dad the money and held out my arms for my new baby.

 

He rested her little soft body in my arms and I remember instinctively knowing that she was mine. For the first time, I had a dog that didn’t belong to my mom or “the family”. Juliet was my baby and she was going to need a mom… just like me.

My dad gave the farmer the money, making a comment on how he just “knew we were going to leave with a puppy today.” I rolled my eyes and cooed over Juliet. She just lay in my arms snuggling. Her fur was so soft and pretty. I was falling in love with her faster than I thought possible. I was gleaming as we got back in the car. I had brought a blanket with that she could lay on, so I rested it across my lap and let Juliet curl up on it.

We started to back out of the clearing when we heard barking. Juliet’s dad was barking at our car – he knew we had his baby. Dad backed out slowly, making sure he didn’t hit the mom or the dad as we turned around in the drive to pull out forward. Juliet’s dad was still barking somewhere but he was out of sight. All of sudden, my dad shouts, “Look!” and points out the driver’s side window. Through the trees, we saw Juliet’s dad, keeping pace with our car and picking up speed. He was suddenly right in front of the car as we slowed way down. He continued to bark at us and run around to the back of the car. “He knows we are taking his baby,” dad said sadly. I felt horrible for separating the two, but Juliet just slumbered peacefully on lap, unphased by her dad’s barking. Her dad started to lose speed as he rammed his head into the back bumper of the car. I watched in the rearview mirror as he stopped running and turned around and headed back towards the driveway.

I felt horrible, but I also knew that I needed Juliet. Maybe as much as she would need me. I held her tighter as I reclined my seat a little to settle in for the ride home.

She slept almost the entire way. We were about 20 minutes from home when I felt and heard a loud bump on the car.

“What the hell did you do?” I asked, as even the bump had awoken Juliet from her slumber. It had felt like we hit the curb on the highway or something.

Let me remind you again that my mother and my dad’s wife had just died suddenly within the last 6 days. Our adrenaline was so low and we were so incapable of being shocked that my dad simply replied, “deer.” I was confused as I looked around for the deer that was no longer there. “Should we go back for it…?” I asked. My dad chuckled, “what do you want me to do, give it mouth to mouth?” I laughed. “It took off the rearview mirror,” he said a little sullenly, then.

Well crap. We were driving my car too. 

When we got home, I held Juliet as my dad and I checked out the damage. The deer had torn up the entire driver’s side of my car. The front headlight was torn open, the side mirror completely gone, the back bumper was torn halfway off, and the real fun one: 3 antler punctures in my back door with fur stuck under the handle. Deer: 1, Car: 0.

I was frustrated but still unphased as I let my little warm bundle of fur onto the ground in the backyard. She sniffed around and did her business, which I praised her for, then took her inside to meet Emma.

Emma, in her old and stubborn age, really couldn’t care less for Juliet. Through the remaining 4 years of Emma’s life, she and Juliet had a relationship of tolerance at best.

Juliet was my everything. I had another two weeks with her before I went back to my job and I wanted to relish every minute of it. Whenever I fed her, I laid on the floor with her and picked at her food so she would know not to be posessive of it later in life – something my mom taught me with all of our dogs we had had. I gave her her first bath, even blow dried her soft puppy fur.

 

She was such a naughty little puppy. But she was smart. I could teach her tricks within just a few repetitions of positive reinforcement. She learned to shake, sit, lay down, and speak within one hour one day. I immediately regretted teaching her the speak command because then, it’s like she discovered she had a voice. She hasn’t stopped talking since, and I no longer reinforce her “speaking.” ;)

She hated puppy food and refused to eat it. She also absolutely detested going up the stairs. To this day, she will still not go up to the second floor of the house and will only go up and down the three steps that lead too and from the backyard. Naturally, I would get a dog who was a little off. As she got older, her anxiety started to show as well. She would chew at her leg whenever there was some kind of change in the house or if I went away for a few days and left her with dad. She was a food theif too! She would take a sandwhich right off of your plate just when she passed by at the right moment. Like I said… naughty. And smart.

Juliet will be 7-years-old this August. She is consistently everyone’s “favorite” dog because she is the least needy. She’s calmed down with age and acts more like an older dog than her own age. She’s a licker, though. And I don’t say that lightly. She would happenly lick any piece of exposed skin for hours at a time if she could. It’s terrible and annoying, but nothing we do has stopped her. 

Jules is losing her sight too, especially at night. In one eye at least, for sure. I had done some research when she was a puppy about specific problems collies go through and this was one of them, though normally possible sight loss can be detected by a vet at a young age. Apparently the vet  missed the detection. 

She has two younger sisters now, who will each get their own blog. But I had to start with my “mourning dog.” Jules has been there for me too many times to count. When it felt like my heart was being stabbed when I missed my mom, she would just sit there and let me hug her while I wept. Sometimes she hugs back, wrapping her neck over my shoulder. Even when Emma died, Jules went through a brief period of depression. They weren’t buddies by any means, but Emma had always been there. And Jules felt our heartbreak at the loss as well as her own. 

She seems content with her life, these days. Her beautiful fur never changed colors, so she is still perfectly sable and white. She loves rolling around in the grass, dirt, and leaves. She gaurds her rawhide bones with her life, freezing up whenever someone or another dog walks into the room, prepared to defend her favorite treat.

 

She is beautifully weird and unique and kind. I fear how bad it will be the day I lose her, but I pray that Jules sticks around for a very long time, God willing. She has such a large piece of my heart that I don’t know how I will do losing another piece of it again. She filled a small part of the void my mom left when she died (who would have loved and hated Juliet at the same time – mainly because Jules would run through her garden in the backyard).

She’s my gorgeous blessing. She’s still good for a crying session every now and then as well.