I am sitting in the backyard this morning because (a) the backyard is nice, with insects and noises and scents that all scream spring, and (b) SOMEBODY needs to get used to new sounds and smells that are different from his home for the last eight weeks, which includes things that are different to him, like someone doing construction a few blocks away and the sound of trains and traffic a few streets over and the occasional truck coming down the street, all of which is New and Exciting and possibly Distressing, if you are not very large.

 

This means a lot of acting extremely normal while sounds get made, and maybe invoking a squeaky toy or two when the sound of the train crossing gate sounds as a distraction. It also means sitting and drinking tea (with a squeaky toy in the pocket). This is what normal looks like.

 

As befits a celebration with the new youngest member of our family, I have obtained a 25 g sample of aged Lao Ban Zhang. Lao Ban Zhang is one of the more premium kinds of pu-erh, and it fetches the kind of premium I rarely want to pay for, except as a treat. This is the kind of tea where a full cake goes for more than $500. Luckily, I was able to buy a small sample for $27.

 

I've said this before and I'll say this again: being able to try a luxury tea for the price of a nice lunch out is one of the finest experiences that $27 can buy. This tea has a sharpness to it, paired with a delicacy of flavor and a complex undertone. It's full of lively, curious energy, one that's strong without being overwhelming.

 

For an aged tea, it rather reminds me of a new puppy. Or maybe that's just the circumstances.

There is a phenomenon that happens often in the intermountain West region, one in which rain falls, but evaporates before it hits the ground. It's a beautiful thing when it happens, a bit of dry meterology that catches light in mystical and beautiful ways. The name for this thing is called a virga, and it is considered auspicious in many cultures.

Virga observable in rain clouds at sunset: dark downward drifts in front of mountains illuminated in brilliant orange and red.

Sometimes you look at the list of names you have slowly collected over the last little while in preparation for this moment. You try them on, one by one, and realize that none of them are this dog. You hold the dog in your arms and you look up into the sky and you and your husband both think, well, this animal has the feeling of cloud to him: something noble and slightly celestial to him.

We thought about calling him “Cirrus” after the clouds that were in the sky when we met him, but unfortunately, saying, “Hey, Cirrus!” activates the other all-seeing power in the cloud, and that was just not to be.

 

After much contemplation, we have named this extremely noble animal Virgaelius Rex, Virga for short. 

Virga has some similarities to our beloved Pele. He is a herding dog (a Border Collie; Pele was an Australian Shepherd). He is black and white (like Pele), but with a little bit of brown on his cheeks and legs and eyebrows. He has very soulful eyes, like Pele, but he is definitely (and I can say this after 24 hours) his own dog with his own dog personality. 

 

He’s also an excellent sleeper. (At this stage, Pele was not). In the two nights we’ve had Virga, we have woken up more than him (on purpose, using alarms) to try to bring him out to go potty. We have discovered that trying to put him out to go potty when he’s still sleepy is totally useless because he will collapse in a tired puddle of unmoving puppy right where we set him and fall asleep right in the middle of the yard. 

 

This is good for us, because Virga will sleep for about four hours at a time and that means our sleep cycles will have slightly less disruption at this stage than we planned for. He has yet to have an accident in the house (good boy!) in part because we have been very vigilant, and in part because we already know the puppy cycle of play, eat, chew, sleep, wake, potty.

 

He is learning the very basics of being a dog in our world right now: where food and water and sleep and play happen, where the door to the outdoors is, where to go potty, what a clicker is, and that every time he hears the sound, he gets a treat; that he will get treats if he is nice and says please and doesn’t scramble all over you and try to gnaw through your hand; that he will get treats for checking in with us as he explores.

 

I am remembering the lesson I learned from Pele: that there is no frustration a little dog can give me that is worth losing my temper, because the few times I ever lost my temper with him and yelled at him, he gave me such a look of dismay. It turns out that not getting mad at your dog is way more productive and conducive to a loving relationship.

 

So anyway. Here is a new dog.

He and Katya are still working out their relationship, but it has been very cordial with boundary enforcement (on both sides) and vigorous invitations to play (on one side).

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