The thing about puppies

The hole in our little universe of Comstock Park, created with the passing of Ben's buddy Wally last fall, has filled just a little.

Ben: Don't look into The Light,  Miz Cricket.  Don't look into The Light.
Miz Cricket: But I think like The Light, Mr. Ben.

This is Cricket, the Amazing Ms' new 3-month-old border collie. We met for the first time yesterday in gale force winds and driving rain. Not the greatest of conditions.

But worth every minute.

Miz Cricket's debut was supposed to be a surprise, but the Facebook Fates intervened.

There are NO secrets or surprises on Facebook.

This message from the Number 2 Son appeared on my timeline Monday:

"Looks like Benny's going to have a new friend. I saw Mrs. Amazing M got a new pup."

GET. OUT.

A flurry of text messages ensued . Possession of new puppy confirmed. Plans made to meet at the park Tuesday morning. Check. Check. And double check.

Tuesday morning dawned wild and wet, with winds howling. When we got to the park, Ben spied his friends, The TAMs, and took off at a happy lope, only to pull up short when he spotted their little red-and-white caboose.

W.T.F.?

Ben tried to catch her scent but the wind snatched it away. He moved forward slowly for a gentle  reconnaissance. He carefully sniffed Miz Cricket as she dance in a circle around Mrs. Amazing M. After serious consideration, Ben sneezed once and turned to me as if to say, "Umm, I believe that would be a puppy."

Miz Cricket shied away from Ben at first, but within a few minutes, apparently decided she had the territorial imperative. She sat down stubbornly, glared at Ben and told him off with a sweet, high-pitched puppy bark. 

Ben was, like, "Dude. What. Ever."

Just talk to the Paw.

The Amazing Ms and I giggled like school kids and we were off for our walk -- leaning into the wind and rain.

A few minutes into our walk, Mrs. Amazing M said, "Do you think it'd be ok if I took her off the leash?" Sure, why not? Miz Cricket had gotten over initial shyness around Ben and looked like she'd like to tag along with the old boy.

Off went the leash. And the real Miz Cricket made her appearance.

She herded Ben.She herded us. She herded the flying leaves.

She coaxed Ben into a game of tag, that began sedately enough but ended with Ben tearing around like a banshee looking half his age. She played with Ben's tail. She pounced on pine cones. I think I caught Ben laughing.

She darted back and forth across the park exploring her new world with infectious abandon, punctuating the end of her runs with a funny little kick-hop before she twirled around and sprinted back to us.

It was time for the 70th border collie head count of the morning.

And each time she returned to us, her new two- and four-legged "flock," she fixed us with an unblinking, soul-searing stare that only (but of course I'm biased) a herding dog can must muster.

It takes your breath away.

And your heart.

THAT'S the thing about puppies.

And about dogs.

###

And briefly. . . A Facebook Epilogue

So, of course, I Facebooked the N2S back on Monday:

Me: Meeting Cricket tomorrow a.m.

N2S: Tell Ben to be nice, he's such a stinker.

Later Tuesday morning:

Me: Ben was a perfect gentleman this a.m. and Cricket is adorable. I think there's a blight in this somewhere!

Late Tuesday afternoon:

Me: Blog. That would be BLOG.