God bless my oldest daughter and her darling beau who took their Saturday for a three hour drive to the home of a Texas breeder to pick up a puppy for me. I was still so traumatized by the psychic breeder episode from last weekend that I had no faith that this deal would fly. But at 3:30, I got a phone call, "We've got a puppy!" Success - I had found and procured an honest to God Norwich terrier. She went into all the details about the breeder and the litter. Then she shared all the details about the pup. "Mom, she is feisty - you better be prepared."
By the time she got through, I wasn't sure if I was getting a new puppy or a grandchild. I had instructions on the new food, what color her hair was, who she looked like, and even pictures on my phone. My daughter will bring her with her later this week when she flies in from Texas for a wedding - and the leave the puppy with me when she flies home, I hope!
So my long nightmare is over. Now it is on to house breaking, learning not to leave anything on the floor, less it become puppy teething treats, and, oh, yes, the "Maggie, you have no choice. You have to be nice. Sorry she is here to stay." discussions with our 13 year old Scottie who will be anything but enthused.
Oh, yeah, and a small detail - I still don't have a name for her.