Toti Nonna has been gone since January 28^th and I have cried every morning just as a matter of course. She’s my first thought and my last thought every day, no exception.

Six weeks ago today I took myself over to Rbari, Ramapo Bergen Animal Refuge to see an available for adoption “in training” dog named Hilda.  First, who the hell names a dog Hilda and second, please define in training…  She looked like my Lina who, along with Toti Nonna, was put into training almost immediately upon arrival on Stowe Lane fourteen years ago. So I know my way around a crazy dog or two.  I could save another one as I promised Toti.  I could make her into another love of the neighborhood.  I could but maybe I couldn’t.  She was a pretty girl, I could see, even through the muzzle, she was tentative, she was cautious and so was I.  That is not a good combination for high intensity training.  Especially in a neighborhood with many many dogs at the end of extending leashes and no open outdoor space. I didn’t want to leave her but the circumstances would not have been to her benefit. Was it too soon?

But you know who would love your neighborhood?  Uh Oh…here comes the pitch.  Piper they said, she’s a Puggle.  Piper the Puggle…you know me, you know my eyes rolled involuntarily. What should I do Toti? Mom? Yes Toti? At least check her out. Yes Toti. And out came the cutest bundle of wiggle ass I’ve ever seen and she’s so soft and she’s got this face and and and twenty minutes later after just a moment’s pause she jumped into the back of the BMW. Ok Toti? Yes Mom.

Here’s the thing, she’s no Toti Nonna but she’s a funny little thing to have around and she’s wiggling her way further into my heart every day but for the first couple of weeks I couldn’t remember her name. People would ask and I was stumped, not good. What do you think Toti?  Rename her Mom, I know she rolled her eyes.  It’s a trait she got from me. But to what…

There are some people who you don’t see often and you don’t really follow along with their day to day but they still poke you once in a while and they still have a true sense of who you are and they seem to show up at exactly the right moments. They make you laugh, out loud, something I hadn’t realized I’d not done it months. You know the ones:

So bless you Michael you were just the respite from guilt and confusion I needed to rename the little chonk of a girl, who absolutely looks like a woman from the village that takes her walk everyday with her stockings rolled down to meet her shoes. Welcome Vecchietta.

In the last six weeks she has had exactly two accidents, (neither her fault as I missed the cues) had no preference nor need for the crate, ate beautifully, wacka wackas (loudest one ever from Lexi) her squeaky toys without trying to destroy them (thank you Aunt Fran and Aunt Maria for the abundance…of squeak toys) learns like an eager student and knows how to have a decent conversation.

She barks appropriately (Mom there’s someone at the door. You can’t come in til Mom says OK) and doesn’t suffer from separation anxiety, somehow Toti taught her to “take herself to bed” which she knows and understands, even when I say it.

Where we have differing opinions is on the walk.  I’m used to my dogs walking at my side, stop when I stop, no pulling on the leash.  This little girl is “enthusiastic” but come to find out they have harnesses for that, WHO KNEW? So the full extent of our training is in full swing and we walk miles a day.  My Fitbit is overjoyed to tell me I’m on a 41 day step streak!

Toti Nonna will never leave me, she will be with me my entire life, most likely I will continue to shed a tear for her each morning and when I close my eyes each night.  Except of course if I’m interrupted by the damn wacka wacka.

Mom? Yes Toti? I know, I sent a good one…yes you did Toti, yes you did.