It’s been such a crazy few weeks with The Westie Besties, and we’re feeling SO THANKFUL for all the lovely connections we’ve already made. 🙌🏻 So, I thought the first post out should be a wee introduction to the two wee Westies that make up TWB! <- not sure if that’s gonna be a thing haha.
Before I begin: Our little intro video is at the bottom of this post.
Check it out when you’re done!
It was on a road trip to Wangaratta from Melbourne (our home at the time) that the discussion of our first dog came to be. We’d definitely had the talk before (and come to an agreement on breed), but this one was much different. I was telling Luke a story our landlady had told me about bringing home their first dog. She and her husband weren’t agreeing on a breed, so one day she bought a teensie pup (of the breed she liked) and went to greet her man at work for his lunch break. And tadaa! Of course he was in love, it was a tiny Doodle puppy! Me being me, I loved this.
Finishing up the story, carefully watching Luke’s reactions, I asked “So, what would you do if I just came home with a puppy?”. My whole body knew the answer would be more of a grimace than anything else, but he totally surprised me and said “I’d ask what it’s name is!”. In Katherine language, this meant we were ready for our Westie. (Don’t ask lol).
The reason for going to Wangaratta was to see my Aunt and her youngest daughter who had driven in from hours away. We met at our gorgeous mutual friend’s house to have some serious catch up time. So, you can imagine our surprise when we found out my Aunt had also come to Wangaratta to buy Catie her first pet; a Westie puppy. Turns out there was a 2-pup litter at a friends house. (Cue Luke and I looking at each other in utter dismay, since it was only hours ago we’d had the warped “we’re ready to start the search for our Westie” conversation. Whoa.)
The next day we went along with Sarah and Catie to look at the pups. There was a boy and girl, and oh my goodness we fell in love with the little girl.
Before leaving Wangaratta that weekend, we’d made a deposit on our first Westie! We had a few weeks of preparing our little house back in Melbourne, which included making a big pen, lining the floors with clear adhesive carpentry plastic to protect the wooden floors, and knitting her a little lamb toy. (That thing went everywhere!)
Note: That adhesive plastic was incredible protection from accidental wees on our floors! I highly recommend it, as long as it doesn’t have any harmful chemicals smell-wise and chew-wise (should your puppy catch on to your protective scheme).
The day arrived and little Ella was ready to be brought home! Ella, you ask? Yup… that was her first name. But when we were welcomed into the owner’s home, this little ragamuffin puppy came flying down the corridor, skidding to a stop a few feet away from us with a devilish look in her eye, and then took off into a side room away from us hoping we were chasing after her… both Luke and I knew this was no Ella. Ella (to us) was a sweet, demure, ladylike name, and this little terrier was vivacious, ready to rumble, and not afraid to voice her opinion whatsoever. I had jokingly suggested “Peach” when we were deciding what we liked, and lo-and-behold, when we got “not-Ella” into the car, Luke said “I think this is a Peach!”.
Through her first 5 months, Peach was a dream. She never chewed, she caught onto doing her business outside in what felt like a millisecond, and she loved every person, every child, and every dog. By the end of those 5 months though, all our Australia plans changed and we were on a plane back to Vancouver, Peach in tow. We used an amazing group called JetPets (who I’ll be writing a separate blog post about soon), and our little pickle bounced out of her crate on the other side of the world like nothing had happened.
Then there was Lucy.
Two years later I was getting the itch to expand my herd. (lol). I knew I wanted a female, and her name was going to be Lucy. But it was our first time experiencing the long process of finding the right pup after Peach basically fell into our laps. I’d been given several names of BC breeders, but all had a long waiting lists, and though we diligently put our names on whatever lists came along, we ended up finding Lucy on good ol’ Kijiji.
She was the last to go from a large litter, and it was a few weeks past the date her brothers and sisters had gone to their new forever homes, so she was alone. That rung a few alarm bells for me. With all the Border Collie litters my family have sold, I know the last to go is generally the most meek; the one that didn’t bound up to the potential buyer and appear more outgoing. But, even though I was worried about that, plus I knew I’d missed those crucial first weeks after she’d been weaned (I’ll be writing a Blog about that soon)… there was just something about the sweet little photo that was sent through to us… she was Lucy!
Luke, me and Peach packed ourselves in the car at 5am the following Saturday to make the 5 hour drive to Salmon Arm. We were nervous. We had bought Peach when we lived in a home with a huge back yard, but Lucy was coming home to a 21st floor Yaletown condo. Also, when we drove up to the breeder’s house, “almost-Lucy” was out on the front lawn (retaliating against the idea of using her lead)… she was the shape of an orange.
It wasn’t that she was fat or rolly in any way, but she had these massive long hairs all over her that stood out about 3 times the length of her regular hair, making her look like she’d just put her paw into a light socket. You can imagine what Luke and I were thinking at this point! Peach looked so positively perfect when we picked her up: a teensie, sleek Westie puppy like all the Pinterest pictures, and here was this little ball of wiry fluff! All wiggles and very sharp teeth. Oh. Good. Lord.
Our first few weeks were exhausting. She didn’t catch on to much. She chewed. She never stopped moving (so much for the sweet puppy cuddles like with Peach), and she had the most pin-like little puppy teeth… and poor Peach was the chosen pincushion.
Lucy’s grown into a gorgeous little dog. Quite a few less IQ points than Peach, gaining her the nickname “Goose”. If there’s a glass door, she’ll be the first to walk into it, allowing for copious fits of laughter every day. But now that the two are grown up, I’m so glad Lucy isn’t like Peach. Peach is always “on”: always on guard, thinking, and knows what’s happening before you do (or she thinks she does). Lucy is relaxed. (Or she genuinely doesn’t get it, which renders the same affect haha). If we’d ended up with two Peaches, I think we’d have quite the house-full. We’ll see what happens when #3 comes along. 😉
Don’t tell Luke.