Velvet at 8 weeks sleeping on Mike's shoulder.It's hard to believe that today marks Velvet Lady's third week with us. We brought her home on January 1, New Years Day. In that time, she has grown by leaps and bounds, not to mention her own leaping and bounding.

When she arrived, she was a bit skinny and weighed approximately nine pounds. As the smallest pup in the litter (I hate the word runt), she had to scrap for her food and learned to be a bit of a rumble tumble puppy. She is feisty, there is no doubt about it.

 

Silver Mercury in the bottom a glass thermomenterIn January of 1983, myself and three friends took a ride to the family cabin in Northern Wisconsin. Along the way, we stopped a couple of times to take in Small-Town America and by the time we arrived, it was quite late (or very early, depending on your point of view) and it was very cold. January brings sub-zero temperatures and in Northern Wisconsin back in the 80s, really cold meant way below zero.

Did you know that mercury freezes at 38 degrees below zero Fahrenheit? If you have a mercury thermometer and it freezes, it will separate

 

Velvet get her first taste of Mike's beard.Every new puppy is a new adventure that lasts a lifetime. Just like people, all dogs have their own personality and they will surprise you with how smart they can be, and also how literally they can take what they have learned and apply it.

Two of the most amazing things about new puppies is how fast they grow and how fast they learn. Velvet is seven weeks old today and has been with us eight days. We've been having a lot of fun, making a lot of trips outside and yes, we've cleaned up a few messes. Messes were expected of course. A new puppy has no idea it should ask to go outside since previously, its mother cleaned up the messes.

 

Calender page for January 1, 2013 Most mornings, I pour a cup of coffee and sit down to check my email, log on to the social networks and in general, start my day. We had stayed up just long enough to ring in 2013 with a yawn and a hug. The new year always seems to hold a promise of good things, and it seemed that 2013 might just be a good year.

So as usual, on New Years Day I woke up, did the usual stuff and headed to my office with a cup of coffee. I wasn't there long when Marg came in and started to talk to me. I can't concentrate and talk at the same time, so instead of trying, I decided to distract her with puppy pictures and clicked the bookmark for the puppy for sale ads. And right there in front and center were four black lab puppies.

"Are you going to make me look at puppy pictures?"

"Look. Lab puppies."

A picture of the MJ Logan.So there I was, this guy who was born and raised in The Woods and Small-Town America, on my own and making my way in The Big City. I was just about fed up with that and began making plans to move back to Wisconsin. But apparently, there were other plans for me. Somehow, I got roped into joining the company bowling team and for a short time, put my moving plans on hold.

I had started packing my small, garden apartment into boxes in anticipation of the end of the bowling league and had quite a few stacked up in my closets. But moving was not my destiny. One night in January we were short one bowler on our team and asked the desk if there were any substitutes. Just before we started bowling, there was our substitute―The Big City Girl who very quickly stole my heart.

It didn't take me long to start regaling her with stories of my deep woods adventures. I'd chuckle when she bundled up against the cold and I was still walking around in a flannel shirt. The longer we were together, the more I knew she was the woman I wanted to spend my life with, but how would that mix with The Woods and Small-Town America? There was only one way to find out, and that was to take her home and show her those things. And so began a new set of adventures for both of us...

 

A picture of the author, Marg.Read Part 2 here.

Having been born and raised in "The Big City," I thought that at 28 years old, I knew just about everything I needed to know. I figured that growing up in The Big City gave me more experience than someone who grew up in a small, remote town in Northern Wisconsin which I commonly think of as "The Woods." Of course, as you probably expected, I was wrong.

The Woods was not unfamiliar to me since my father took us on family vacations to Northern Wisconsin when I was growing up. He would rent a cabin on a lake and take us fishing and swimming―never camping or hiking because there were dangers lurking in The Woods. After all, we were city people and although we could appreciate the beautiful scenery, we were all scared of The Woods.