A Boston Terrier Birthday
We're celebrating Chet Baker's fourth birthday with a retrospective of his puppehhood. When Jane Streett, Chet's breeder, sent us this snapshot, we swooned for hours. Days. Weeks. Put him on a bun and serve him up.
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I tried like crazy to hide my online machinations from Phoebe, but she was too smart for me, and busted me six days before Chet was even born. She started giving me even more spontaneous hugs than usual, and showed just a little too much interest in a Boston terrier in a dog show on TV ("Mommy, I really LIKE those dogs!" This, from a kid who'd been buggin' me for a golden retriever for two years...) and I got suspicious that she had been reading my email. Sure enough. I walked into the studio one day and caught her pirouetting around, eyes closed, whispering, "I'm getting a PUPPY!!!" I had wanted to surprise the kids at Christmas with a photo of him, wrapped up in a box under the tree, but instead we got to anticipate Chet's birth together, which was way more fun.
Phoebe at 8, the old soul. Would you buy this sweet girl a puppy? Yeah, me too.
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Finally, on December 12, 2004, we got the email we'd been waiting for. Chili Bean had delivered her first litter, just two babies. And we had second pick. We waited anxiously to hear which puppy went to the family with first pick. But the kids had already decided that the little black puppy with one white glove was the one they wanted. Fingers were crossed...
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Sometimes things work out. We got the one with the black neck. Kind of looks like his mammy, don't he? As you can see, Chet was a home-bred dog, born not in a kennel or a manger, but in Jane's home. He was therefore spoiled rotten from Hour One. Here he is not quite a month old, January 5, 2005.
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Chet on Day One at Indigo Hill, wearing his tube sock sweater. Superdog! My musical hub Bill of the Birds named him within a few minutes of seeing his first picture. "I've always wanted to name a dog Chet Baker," he said, and that was that.
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And now that puppy, four years later, is asleep on my coat in the chair right next to me as I write. And I do not know what I would do without him. I run my hand over his satiny back and he gives a rattling dog sigh of contentment, and I think about this animal that we have bred to want nothing more than to keep our company.
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Thank you, Jane.
Labels: Boston terriers, Chet Baker, Chet Baker's birthday, puppy sweaters
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