It began with a horse called Mojo

Two years ago I thought I had a buyer for my horse and was looking for my next young prospect to train and compete up the levels in dressage. Responding to an ad about a promising youngster, I went out to see Mojo, a Thoroughbred/Friesian cross. When Brian and I arrived at the stable where Mojo was boarded, we were greeted by this handsome fellow -- Jack. Not only was he a real looker, but he didn't bark, was attentive without being neurotic, and he gently played fetch with my not-quite-four-year-old son the entire time we were there. Before we left, Mojo's owner asked Brian if he would like to see some puppies, and she showed us a litter of Jack's and a blue merle female. She herself had one of Jack's sons at home, and she couldn't say enough about what nice dogs they are (the owner has been breeding this line for 25 years).
Fast forward two years to losing Rosie and pondering what to get for our next canine companion. Rick and I discussed what we wanted, and agreed that a good playmate for Brian was high on our wish list. We both also had a slight preference for a male. But beyond that, we couldn't seem to agree on what kind of dog that should be. Into my mind drifted the memory of Jack. But how to inquire if he was still around and siring puppies? I never had the name or number of his owner, just that of Mojo's owner, which I was pretty sure I purged when I ended up keeping my horse Russell. I couldn't even remember how I got to the stable, as it was "over the river and through the woods" into unfamiliar territory over an hour away. But the idea wouldn't leave, so I searched my email archives. There, to my surprise, I found a single saved email from Mojo's owner. Hardly daring hope that she still had the same email addy, I sent out my strange message, telling her how I had come to look at a horse she had for sale two years ago and was impressed by the dog at the stable she didn't own and wondered if she had a name and number for the stable so I could find out if that dog was still be around and producing offspring since we had just lost our dog (yes, I was breathless!) Lo and behold, she emailed me back!

"Hi Michelle, I'm still here! And is your timing good. I just talked to Kelly, the owner of 'Jack' the male Aussie you referred to. They just had two litters earlier this month. One with the same female who had pups when you were there and another litter days before with a black and white female (non-registered). So in total there are 10 pups at Kelly's. I think she said three of the non-reg. pups are spoken for, but the rest will be ready the first couple of weeks in Dec."

I was so excited -- the perfect dog for boy and farm! Now, if I could just get Rick to go meet Jack and see what a wonderful dog he is, I was sure he would agree that these Aussies were different than the majority of those we had met or known. I told him about the dogs and got the negative reaction I expected; but he did say he'd think about it. Still, waiting is agony, so when Rick took Brian with him on calls a couple days later, my sister and I jumped in the car for a quick road trip to see the pups ourselves. Jack was his same perfect self. My sister loved the blue merle female, but Calli, the black and white female with the border collie looks, appealed to me far more.
Her pups, only being two weeks old, were hard to evaluate beyond sex and color. There was a red and white male, a black and white male, and a black tricolor male; Kelly said the latter was reserved.
C-r-a-w-l forward another four weeks to last Friday. Rick had finally consented to go look at the dogs (in his mind, agreeing to go look was agreeing to get one). It turned out that the black and white male was the one that was reserved, so we chose the black tricolor. I suggested Jackson as a name since without handsome, gentleman Jack I never would have considered an Aussie, and Brian likes my idea. Now Brian and I are impatiently waiting until next Sunday, when we can bring Jackson home. Brian is crossing the days off on a homemade calendar of sorts and wanting to "play Jackson," with him being the puppy and me being the human. He also keeps telling Rick and me that we need to get our OWN dog, because this one is going to be HIS dog. And truly, this may be the best birthday present Brian will ever receive! (We are picking up Jackson four days before Brian's 6th birthday.) I DO hope he'll be willing to share once Jackson comes home, but at any rate I will have early mornings and late evenings when Brian is in bed for "puppy love." :-)

I hope you enjoyed "the story of Jackson," which of course is only just beginning. It has all worked out, as Moya Brennan sings, "In His Perfect Time."

That's it for now at "not dogless for long" . . .