July 31, 2021
99th entry, Brienzwiler
Since the death of our Sheltie Jenny on 1/1/2018, I have wanted to have a new dog. Only a few weeks ago Franziska agreed. I promised her that I would not actively look for a dog because I feel that THE DOG needed to find ME.
This week we went with our adult children David and Livia and their dog Lucy for a few days in the Jura. David wanted to show us some beautiful places from his bike tour from Basel to Nyon. On the way over the high plateau of the Jura Franches-Montagnes towards Saignelégier we were diverted because of construction. The navi sent us on a road that Franziska assumed was wrong, but she kept quiet as I was so happily chatting with David. The navigation route ended at a farm where a truck also blocked the road. David shouted, “Sharp left!” and I turned and parked. A border collie came running toward us, and Livia shouted, “That’s a nursing mother!” I want to see the puppies!” We all wanted to see them.
The farmer was friendly and showed us the six seven-week-old puppies, five of them males. Livia was blissful and said that among these would surely be the future father of Lucy’s pups. Our hearts melted.
During dinner at the hostel at Étang de la Gruère, I thought about dog names. Spontaneously, “Bobby” crossed my lips. Franziska found it suitable, but first we had to sleep on it!
The next morning we drove back to look at the puppies again. Franziska and I entered the horse box together and knelt down. A small, black and white ball of wool walked straight towards me, put his paws on my knee, laid down, let me scratch his belly and looked up at me. I moved away, and again he trotted up to me, looked into my eyes, and charmed my heart. I heard myself say, “That’s him! This is the one we’ll take.”
Now a little dog soul will soon enrich our lives. Bobby.