My First Corgi

Her name was Amy.  She was short and sweet and so darn cute.  Amy lived on a farm in Washington State and she had a great life.

I met her while I was on a college tour for grad school.  UDub was high on my list and since I was in the area, my folks arranged for me to catch up with Cousin Clare who had moved to the state years before.  What do I remember….

The dark grey pavements of Seattle

Spending a couple nights in the dorm on campus

Touring the program with an official of some sort

A delicious and filling pastrami on bagel sandwich

Feeling like I could definitely make a home there

Then up to the border.  My cousin and I chatted easily and she told me all about the cows who lined the road “belted”, Jerseys, Guernseys….(this passed for entertainment in the sticks).  She and her partner lived in a half built farmhouse with a beautiful stained glass window that they made.  I hung out, read, met Amy, walked the property, petted Amy, read some more, visited a few tourist sites, fell in love with Amy, took an amazing bath in a freestanding claw footed tub in the unfinished upstairs part of the house, admired Amy, asked myself how this cutie pie could be of the same species as the terrible Pepper and Ginger, and generally had a great time.

I did not attend the UDub library school for a variety of reasons – expense being one of them.  The Pacific Northwest called to me and my life would be so different had I heeded that call.  Instead I went to a one year program in Denver that offered me a half tuition scholarship, moved back to Los Angeles after graduation and got on with my dog free life.

A decade later my husband and I were ready to move out of our townhouse and into a house house.  He was firmly Team Dog and pro-Dalmatian.  His childhood dog was a liver spotted Dal from a “backyard breeder”.  Lady was biddable, sweet, loving, and everything a boy could want in a dog.  I was braced to be a Dalmatian household, right up until he told me that our tiny backyard was not suitable for the breed.  My face fell and I was desolated – we had purchased a house that denied him his dream.  

This did not, however, mean that we were to remain a cat only household.  We discussed other breeds and decided on an Airedale.  His family owned one when he was born and there were good stories about that dog.  

Someone suggested we go to a dog show and talk to breeders, so off we went.  We found an Airedale breeder and she was kind but firm “This is a great dog, but, it’s the puppy from hell.  It will need exercise, lots of training, and lots of attention.  If not, it will eat your furniture and cabinets and make your life miserable.”  We enjoyed meeting her dogs but as we walked away I whispered to Les that I did not want a puppy from hell.

No Dalmatian.  No Airedale.  What next?

I spied three golden faerie dogs across the way “What about a corgi?” I suggested.  “Corgi?  They have super short legs.”  “But they reach the ground” I quoted (from Anne of Ingleside),  “C’mon.”  We introduced ourselves to the breeder and she gave us permission to meet her dogs.  Les knelt down and they swarmed him.  He laughed in delight as he tried to pet them.  They were wiggling and shaking and putting paws on his knee and he tumbled to a sit and felt the corgi love.  Happiness.  Corgis are happiness.
We left the show and I shared my enthusiasm for the breed.  He started researching the breed and began the search.  A few months later we drove to the airport and met “Pete,” a young corgi who was on the show circuit until an unfortunate incident.  We renamed him “Jeeves” and began our personal corgi journey.