If you follow me on Instagram, Facebook, or maybe even Twitter, you may have already heard our exciting news and have seen a few of these puppy photos as well.
For reference sake, and in case you’re interested, here’s the {long} story…
About six months ago when LeRoy started showing signs of illness and with our pug in a wheelchair I thought, this is all just too emotional for me, NO MORE DOGS! I couldn’t handle it really. At the time I also thought LeRoy was going to live a lot longer, just as Bebop has, super alive and happy, but not necessarily running around like he did in the past. And then LeRoy just got worse and worse, and I think I was in a HUGE state of denial for several months.
Until a fateful day in January, after watching LeRoy go through numerous seizures, pace around the house in circles, bumping his head and getting stuck in corners, and only really knowing who we were for mere moments at a time {like 10 second Tom, if you’ve seen 50 First Dates} we brought him to the vet for a final evaluation.
Well, “we” didn’t – – – the husband did.
Our regular vet wasn’t in that day, but instead a new lady doctor helped my husband and assured him that LeRoy wasn’t really there anymore. And honestly, at this point, we knew it, we just needed a professional opinion.
What was coincidental about meeting that doctor on that particular day {or not so coincidental, because I believe everything happens the exact way it is supposed to}, was that she happened to be a Frenchie owner herself and really responded to us emotionally. She could see the heartache in my husband’s eyes over the decision we inevitably had to make, and she said to him in that moment “I can see that you are a phenomenal pet owner, and I know a phenomenal French Bulldog breeder — if and when you are ready, I can recommend you to her.”
When the husband returned home and relayed all the info about LeRoy as well as the breeder recommendation, I burst into tears. I didn’t want new dogs, I wanted LeRoy. In my denial state, LeRoy was just going to get better and walk around with diapers on, like Bebop does. But it was official. We made the appointment for the following day and brought LeRoy in for his final goodbye.
That was January 29th and I still cry a little {or a lot} for him every single day.
We were lucky enough to have the help of the same wonderful doctor the husband had seen the day before, and because she too has a Frenchie baby, I could see the emotion and red in her eyes as we sobbed and said our final goodbyes to LeRoy and put him to rest.
The emotional drive home was less jarring than walking back into our house without LeRoy there and because Bebop doesn’t move around too much, the house was eerily quiet… our pain and tears echoed through the house.
Within two days I could barely stand the lack of energy in the house and I said to the husband we need to call the vet and get that breeder’s number NOW.
As much as the pain of loss was overwhelming me, the thought of having no dog was even worse. And I don’t believe in coincidences, so the appearance of that particular vet, who knew exactly what we were going through, who was a Frenchie owner herself, and knew of a really great breeder {just an hour away} that she recommended US to, was all just meant to be.
Wednesday was the fateful day and by Friday we had contacted the breeder, who just happened to have a brand new litter, and by the end of the day I had paypaled a deposit to her for one boy puppy. And suddenly I felt a rush of love and happiness wash over me for the first time in what felt like forever. Just getting to think about new life was what we needed to bring a little happy back into our home. But the puppies were only two weeks old then and we would have to wait until they were 6 weeks just to meet them and then two and a half more weeks after that to bring them home.
I didn’t know how we’d make it through all the sadness nearly 9 weeks before we could get them home… but then I remembered how I got LeRoy… {see LeRoy as a puppy and read his story here}
Prior to LeRoy, I had a handsome rescue Boston Terrier named Billy {William McBillerson was his full name} and on the morning of my 28th birthday, when he was just two years old, a freak accident occurred as a friend took him out on a walk for me for my birthday –Billy pulled off the leash, ran out into the street and was hit by a car.
I was awoken that morning by SCREAMING girls in the apartment as I saw my dog lying on the floor twitching… I rushed over to him in shock, as everyone watched, pet his bloody head and I told him I loved him as I watched him try to survive… and as Pep {my now husband} held my dying Billy wrapped in towels in the back of my old Discovery, I rushed to the nearest animal hospital only to be told by the vet with wet brown eyes, that Billy was already gone. I was already sobbing, but in denial. When he told me the news I looked at him and yelled NOOOOOOO!
This story brings me to tears even now, ten years later…
All of my dogs prior to LeRoy were rescues, my entire life was filled with rescues… even my three purebred Boston Terriers were rescues and I had never had a puppy that was younger than 6 months old. But after Billy’s accident, I was introduced to LeRoy at 8 weeks old and of course fell in love and brought him home. Even though he was found through a breeder, we felt like we had rescued LeRoy because as the runt {and product of bad breeding}, he had so many issues we took care of over the years.
But LeRoy was meant to be too, through all of his issues, he was the best dog I’ve ever had. Ever. But because I got him so soon after the passing of Billy, I cried on him all the time and I always felt like he absorbed all my heavy sadness. The point to this whole story is that even though we had to wait so long to meet our new puppy, I was happy to get to grieve and go through the sadness without laying it on a new little life. Again, I really think it was just meant to be.
So by Friday evening we had put a deposit down for one puppy and were already smiling thinking of new names. But secretly in my heart, I wanted two puppies. So I went from no dogs to THREE {including Bebop} but I didn’t want to tell the husband because I had a feeling he’d say I was crazy.
But on our hike the following day, I finally told him that I couldn’t stop thinking that we needed TWO puppies… and to my surprise {I’m not sure why} he said he’d been thinking the same exact thing!
During our hike I texted the breeder and asked if it was possible to get two boys {we love the idea of real brothers growing up together}, she said yes and by the end of the day I’d sent another deposit for the second puppy. At this point we didn’t even know what the puppies looked like but had talked to her on the phone. My only stipulation was that they weren’t black or dark brindle because it would remind me of LeRoy too much.
But we were giddy… and then crying …. and then giddy … and then crying.
And that has pretty much summed up the last month and a half emotionally.
So the breeder {French Bulldogs Now} texted these two photos to us….
This is the mama with her 8 pups. Six of them survived; two girls and four boys. We got first pick of the four boys.
French Bulldogs usually have to have C-sections because their heads are so large, but this strong mama {above} had all her pups naturally!!! Isn’t she pretty?!?! {She looks a little bit like my old Boston T, Billy}
Below are the boys at two weeks old…
I stared at these two photos for four weeks before we finally got to meet the puppies in person. A reputable breeder is very important, as we learned with LeRoy. Pet store puppies are never to be trusted and while I still believe in rescue dogs {my mom has two and my brother has three – and throughout my life I’ve had 6 total rescue dogs} Frenchie rescues are not so easy to come by AND since they are so expensive, improper breeding happens quite frequently. We were happy to get to see both the mama and the stud of these little guys as well as a great vet recommendation. Remember, the vet recommended US to the breeder, not the other way around.
The Puppies at 6 Weeks Old… Our First Introduction {below}
This was last weekend when we finally got to meet the puppies. Even though the bed is pink, these are all the boy pups. We had to take our shoes off, wash our hands with disinfectant as well as spray our bodies down with Lysol before we got to meet them, and we weren’t aloud to pick them up and hold them against our bodies. Understandably.
For some reason, the husband and I both prefer having boy dogs… it’s just lucky that we both agree, and while all these puppies are worth saving {and so adorable I could cry… and have just looking at them} we are going to be the lucky parents of two of them. We also like to let them choose us… we just feel it’s the best way to decide.
In the photos, their markings look a little on the brown side, but they are all black and gray tones.
How These Two Cuties Chose Us…
Puppy close up #1 above: 6 weeks. This little guy ran right up to the husband & started nibbling at his beard #ForLikeEver. Then he ran right over to me & started kissing me, until he knew for sure he had won me over. Then he rest his little head in my hand and fell asleep… And here he is. He chose us… He has two large gray markings on his back that look like little wings. {The husband has the honor of naming him}
Puppy close up #2 above: 6 weeks. This little guy with the cutest little snarl, cool black mask, and nearly solid white body was the first to come up to me. While the other guy we chose was loving up the husband, I had my hands out to the other 3 boys waiting to see which one would choose me. I originally had my eye on a cutie with a single black spot on his back but this little guy came up to me first and started nibbling my fingertips… and he just wouldn’t stop! It was so cute!! While the other two did finally join him at my hands for some love, this little worked the hardest at winning me over then went over to the husband & did the same. I took a few photos of all the puppies asleep in their crate when we first arrived and when I looked back, the two boys who chose us were sleeping on top of each other. I like thinking they’ll get to grow up together as real brothers. {I get the honor of naming this guy}
Our Twins…
We have a few sets of names we’re thinking about, but have decided not to set anything in stone until we finally bring them home. I want to make sure their names really fit their personalities and since they’ll be 8 weeks next time we see them, they may look a bit different as well. We’ll see…
We get to pick them up on March 20th, after their second set of shots, and we CANNOT WAIT!
