~ Murphy

Murphy is a one year old Papillon that I’ve had for almost 11 months.

After we moved out here and KJ started traveling, I was home alone. No biggie except for the fact that “alone” meant I was the only living, breathing person in the development. So, I was ALONE! And, it’s dark out here; no streetlights at all and I heard every single noise.

I approached KJ one evening with the idea of a dog. I had a list of pros and cons and admittedly, the list of cons was so much longer than the list of pros. However, I was lonesome and in the end, the list of cons was overlooked and I was on the hunt for a puppy.

I searched and searched and eventually found a Papillon breeder in Corona, which is about 2 hours from where we live. I was in constant contact with the breeder and finally made an appointment to drive to Corona to see the puppy. The puppy was 4 months old already (not exactly what I was looking for) but he was adorable. Lucky for me I had the forsight to bring “just in case” puppy supplies because when we drove out of Corona, I had the puppy on my lap.

He slept all the way home and I thought, wow, what a good puppy. After the first couple of weeks, I was convinced that Murphy had in some way been abused before we got him. He was skittish, wouldn’t come anywhere near us and every time I lifted my hand to pet him, he cowered, acting as if he half expected me to hit him. My heart broke for him.

Now, my family knows my history with puppies. All of you remember Sam, right? We had only had Sam a week when the kids and I came home from school one day and the kids went rushing out to play with him. When they were done playing, they put him back in the back yard on his lead and went on their merry way. A few minutes later, I went out to get him (I wanted him in the house with me, not tied up in the back yard).

I remember standing on the deck looking for him and calling for him but Sam wasn’t anywhere. I started walking down the stairs of the deck and stepped on his lead. I found Sam hanging from the stairs of the deck. The first thought I had was, “OMG, if this dog dies, KJ is gonna KILL me!!” The next thing I know, I’m giving mouth to mouth to a dog before rushing him to the vet. It wasn’t until much later, after I had Sam home, wrapped in a blanket and curled up on the couch with me that I realized what I had done. I had basically swapped spit with a dog! But after that incident, Sam was my dog. He may have been Kenny and Ryan’s hunting dog, but he was my dog and when it came time to put him down, it was me holding his head in my lap as the vet put him to sleep.

Less than a week after we got Murphy, KJ was out of town and it was a rare moment for Murphy and I; he was actually laying on the couch . . . next to me. My cell phone rang so I got up to answer it, not thinking that Murphy would move. Well, he did more than just move. He somehow got to the top of the back of the couch and then . . . he jumped.

We have tile floors . . . .

Murphy broke his right front leg in two places. During this whole ordeal, I discovered that the people of Palm Springs treat their dogs like children. Some might argue and say they’re treated better than some children and I tend to agree with that. Every year there's a dog parade on El Paseo for dogs and their owners. The dogs are dressed in costumes (sometimes the dogs and their owners match) and they ride around in golf carts. At the end of this fiasco, we had spent close to $2000 for Murhpy and his broken leg.

On the upside, Murphy no longer shied away from me. He started following me wherever I went. Even now, I can’t leave the room without hearing the pitter patter of Murphy feet behind me. He’s fiercely loyal and has dubbed himself as my protector. After almost year, he’s just now warming up to Kenny but he’ll still bark if he thinks Kenny is getting too close to me.

Whenever we leave town, Murphy goes to the kennel. When I picked him up after being in Omaha for Lynsay’s birthday, Stella (the woman who runs the kennel) told me that Murphy needs puppy socialization classes!

Some might say he’s spoiled. Me? I say he’s loved.