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Going to the Dogs

It was love at first sight for me. The confident energy. The sleek build. The way his hind legs looked like he was wearing furry chaps – yes, the cowboy pants – when you caught a glimpse of him from just the
right angle.

The first time I saw Auggie, he was prancing down my street with a stick in his mouth. And not just any stick. From the way he was holding it up for everyone to see, it was clearly the best stick ever in the whole entire world. 

It might have been early spring 2021, but like many of us during the pandemic, I have forgotten how time and calendars work, so that’s as specific as I can get.

I do know, however, that my immediate assessment of the dog holding a stick while walking down my street was that he was a majestic beast. The second time I saw him, he was also carrying a stick. I had to assume it was a different stick, but his show-dog form was exactly the same. It was on this occasion that I noticed the human who was with him, a woman about my age. 

My curiosity about the stick was an obvious segue to friendly conversation. In a matter of minutes, I learned this dog’s name – Auggie – and that he was a standard poodle. He’s also a parti. That has nothing to do with his fun-loving personality, smiley face, and joyful spirit and everything to do with the color of his coat. Auggie is part white and part black. Hence, Auggie is a parti poodle. 

I would not learn Auggie’s human’s name or anything about her for at least another week.

So many families I know have poodle-mix breeds. Over the past few years, I’ve met labradoodles, golden-doodles, Aussie-doodles, a schnoodle, a cockapoo, and my favorite (at least to say!), the adorable malti-poo. 

Because my husband and I have been thinking about talking about pondering the concept of perhaps one day soon possibly looking at getting a dog, I have been fascinated by these poodle cross-breeds. It turns out that aside from being smart and majestic (see Auggie), poodles are a non-shedding breed, which means they are as close to hypoallergenic as a dog can be – and a good choice for people with pet allergies. Or in our case, people with children who have severe pet allergies. 

Our firstborn and one-and-only good boy was a black lab/shepherd mix named Rosco. When Rosco died sixteen years ago, he took a piece of our hearts with him. Shortly after his last breath, as if to confirm that we should never even attempt to replace him, two of our three kids started having allergic reactions to other dogs. One of them was so allergic that she couldn’t even visit a home where a dog was present. She didn’t attend a single in-home birthday party during elementary school, and we figured out later that she was having reactions to her best friend who lived with two large dogs – not even to the dogs themselves.

Today, our oldest has a home of her own. And our youngest – the other severely allergic child who we definitely love more than a dog we haven’t even found yet – is a junior in college. This means, if all goes as expected, she, too, will be moving out in a year or so. 

This also means the timing was perfect for me to become borderline obsessed with Auggie the poodle. 

The next time I saw Auggie, my husband and I were attempting to clear about six square feet of turf and dig a tree-sized hole in our rock-hard front yard. We were both sweating like 300-pound men. Scott had just retrieved a pick-axe to help dig, so he didn’t look creepy or intimidating at all. 

“There’s Auggie!” I squealed with delight.

And then it occurred to me that I still did not know the name of Auggie’s human. When I introduced Scott to Auggie that day (after he put down the pick-axe), he understood immediately why I was in love. This interaction also gave me a chance to finally learn my neighbor’s name. 

We have lived in our house for twenty-three years and despite some talk last year (okay, I was doing the talking) about wanting to move to the city, we have made the decision to stay put. Ours is not one of those tight-knit neighborhoods where everyone knows everyone, but following my Auggie model for friend-making, I have actually become more of a people person during the past year, mostly by getting to know dogs. 

It might seem absurd, but I have to thank the pandemic for helping me look up and see Auggie the parti poodle with his stick and his human, Vicki. I promise to keep you posted about our one-day dog (which Scott tells me he has already named!). I’m not sure if he will be a poodle or a poodle-mix, but I know he will be loved. And I know he’ll have a great contact for the best sticks in the neighborhood.  

Karen Schwartzkopf has her dream job as managing editor of RFM. Wife, mother, arts and sports lover, she lives and works in the West End with her family, including husband Scott, who not coincidentally is RFM’s creative director. You can read Karen’s take on parenting her three daughters – Sam, Robin, and Lindsey, also known as the women-children – in the Editor’s Voice.
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