This is Kip, the newest member to my family. Today, he is two months old.Earlier this week, my family bought him and drove him to a trainer. We didn't have a name for him until about halfway into the trip. Our two choices were "Kip" and "Chai". My Dad let him out of his crate to walk around, and called me out of the van to take some "classy photos" to send to friends. It took a bit, but a few photos came out well (he actually looked into the camera!). That's when my Dad started calling him by the name Kip.
Back when I was a little kid, my family had a big black Lab named Scout. He was a nightmare! My Dad was training him, but then became too busy with work to do much with him. Scout took that advantage to let loose all his playfulness. His tail had enough force to knock a person over (or give them the slap of their life). We eventually gave him away, and he became a hunting dog.
Kip is a very good boy. He isn't overly dominant, and definitely not shy either. We sat down on a picnic blanket to watch him, wondering if he was the one. Kip sat there by the fence, watching us. More like guarding us. My Mom said it was like he was choosing us, not the other way around.
After a while of thinking, we sat down in our hotel room to discuss our choices. We finally came to a conclusion that the "dog with the ticked legs that keeps watching us" was our new hunting dog.
We went back to the dog pen, picked him up, and my Dad signed the papers for the puppy. We put him in a kennel in the back of our van, and left.
I felt kind of sad as we drove away from Kip, leaving him at the trainer's. He was sleeping on the grass, worn out from playing. The trainer's daughter picked him up and cuddled him. Right then, I felt really sad. That girl's playing with our puppy, our Kip, and we've only had him for three hours! I thought, watching him until the van turned the corner. I couldn't see him anymore after that. But he'll be back soon.
Patience is a virtue, and I need more of it.