Mukilteo Musings

Beloved Puppies Part II

I could write pages and pages about Jebbie or officially Jebidiah au Mont d'Or (mountain of gold--named after the village where we lived in France). Lucas and Kaley wanted to name him Jeb so that he would still recognize his name if we called him Jed by mistake, the name of our dog who had recently died of leukemia. He was terribly bright; he loved to sit up on the couch and watch TV. He loved the movie Beethoven and when he would hear the music from his favorite commercials, he'd run into the family room to watch. Jeb was gorgeous and show quality but therein was the problem. At age 6 in April of 2002, he was diagnosed with lymphoma. After one visit to a dog oncologist for chemo therapy, he died only two weeks after getting sick. We were devastated--how could this happen to us twice?? Laddie lived to be 16??!!

My husband is friends with the world's leading dog geneticist and she told us about the bad gene in certain lines of Puget Sound Golden Retrievers--particularly those bred for show. I could not go through this again so my decision was, "No MORE Goldens!!" We'd find a homeless dog at the pound. The problem was I had a 14 year old daughter who had had Jebbie since she was 7 and she was having a really tough time.

We had just watched the Winter Olympics a couple of months before and a local kid, named Apolo Anton Ohno was the media darling both locally and nationally. He was a cute short track speedskater and he managed to win both a Gold and Silver medal. Kaley was quite taken with Apolo and he replaced Justin Timberlake in her teen crushed little heart. Actually, I thought he was the most adorable Olympic athlete I'd ever seen as well. Kaley wanted a puppy; she wanted a Golden Retriever; she wanted to name it Apolo; and there was no alternative.

After discussions with Dave, my criteria were: 1. Puppy cannot be a Puget Sound Golden 2. Maybe we should return to the dark variety like I had as a kid and 3. There must be no dogs in the bloodline that were in either Jebbie or Jed's pedigree. 4. Finally, NOT a show dog. We thought about getting a puppy in Montana during the summer but then I saw an ad in the paper that looked intriguing.

Three days after Jebbie died and while Dave was out of town, "Ok, kids, we are just going to look at these puppies. We are not getting one so do NOT get your hopes up. It will be fun just to LOOK! We'll get a puppy in Montana later." I decreed.

The puppies were bred by this young guy in a small town in Eastern Washington for hunting. He owned two females and had a black lab as well. The father was from a family who had moved from Kansas. He brought the puppies to the Seattle area to his sister's house to sell them in a bigger market. They were dark in color and not bred for show. When I told the guy what had happened to us, he had never heard of the leukemia/lymphoma problem and then he said exactly the right thing, "Man, when you start crossing dogs from the same families, they call it inline breeding, just to get a prettier dog things can get really messed up. It ain't a good idea to mess with that stuff!"

"Oh my God!!, look at this little guy!" as I swooped up a dark darling with a slight white spot on his chest that would disqualify him from the show ring immediately. "He looks just like my Rufus who I had in high school--white spot and all!! This is the one I want!"

"MOM, you said we were just going to LOOK, remember? You even got mad at us!" reminded Lucas.

"I know but I want him!"

"He looks like Apolo, Mom. See his eyes--light brown with white white around them??" chimed in Kaley.

I pulled out my dead dogs' pedigrees and sat on the floor and compared them to these puppies' family tree. Whoa! My four criteria had been met and Jebbie hadn't even been dead a week. So that was it! I was in love again. We named him Apolo, Our Golden Boy, after our Olympic Gold medalist--not Apollo after the greek God, I keep telling the vet. "Only one 'L'!!"

At home, one of Kaley's friends pointed out that the white spot on his chest was his "soul patch" just like the real Apolo. He also had a little bit of white on the tips of his toes. Kaley said those were his skate blades. And when he'd fall and slide on the wood floor with his feet going every which way, we'd yell, "Get that silver medal, Apolo!" Obviously, of course, when he'd poop or pea or chew something, we'd yell, "Apolo Oh NO!!"

Apolo is now two years old and he weighs 92 pounds. When I take him for walks, people I have met think he actually looks like Apolo with his bright eyes and dark curls around his head. The white little skate blades disappeared but he still has his "soul patch" on his broad macho chest. He is not the brightest dog we've had; he doesn't watch TV but he is the most affectionate and Kaley is crazy about him. We are hoping for the best!!!

The real Apolo has actually learned about his namesake--a couple of times. I have a friend who saw Apolo in Chicago and she gave him a picture of our puppy when he was little. Fortunately, Apolo made a local appearance about a year ago and Kaley and I were able to tell him in person we named our puppy after him. His response, "That's awesome!!!"