It's always best to start every story at the beginning, even if there is a cute puppy at the end. I met Jeannie, Eric and Dakota right after Meg was born. My Friday nights would start with a stroll down D dock, while simultaneously trying to navigate the dock cart, make sure no one fell in the water and attempt to keep Guinness from leaping off the dock for a swim. In the midst of all my chaos, I saw Jeannie waiting on the gas dock with her very well-behaved Golden, Dakota. Eric pulled up in their Whaler and they took off for parts unknown. It seemed so civilized and glamorous compared to the traveling circus I was trying to manage. This tableau played out for a couple of months and finally, Jeannie and I had a chance to talk (I think Guinness got off his lead and ran over to see Dakota). That was the beginning of a beautiful and treasured friendship.
Dakota lived a good, long life and walked on when he was 17 years old. Loki has big shoes to fill but after spending a couple of hours with him, he's going to do just fine. Jeannie and Eric had kept us up to date with Loki's (formerly known as Mr Teal) journey to Wisconsin and we were anxiously awaiting his Bayfield début on Saturday. We all got up, got dressed and walked downtown on Saturday morning with George to meet Bayfield's newest canine resident. George was brilliantly behaved and made all sorts of good choices with his newest friend.
As I'm sure you've figured out, I am a big fan of dogs. I literally can't imagine my life without at least one or two (or five) dogs following me around. Given the choice between a dinner at Neptune Oyster in Boston or a European Golden Retriever puppy— I'd take the puppy every time. Since the family consensus is we are maxed out on dogs, it was pure bliss to have Loki around. He's going to have an amazing life— full of beaches and islands, scones from Big Water, dinner on the patio at the Pub and play dates with Uncle George. What a lucky little boy.