Serendipity

Really, Christmas is about kids.  And Sage, who is only 4 (she'll be five in two days) is a kid.  Murphy always knew when her stocking was stuffed and keyed in on it until I relented and gave her something from it.  Sage, who is much more mellow and relaxed, had to be led to it, but once she knew there was something that smelled suspiciously like dog toys and chews, she was all over it.

But then, in the middle of the afternoon came a call on my cell phone. From Murphy and Sages' breeder.  We talked for awhile about Murphy, she asked about Sage.  Then she said she was going to look at some pups tomorrow (today) who were bred by the same breeder as Sage's mom (who Mary bred and I got Sage).  We left the conversation that if she saw a good female, she'll pick it up and I'll come back.  We'll see, we'll see.  Mary has a good eye for dogs and she went back and forth about this breeding.  The father is a hunter, which Murphy's dad also was a Master Hunter, but the dogs may not be as petite or sweet as Sage.  We'll see, we'll see.  

Serendipity.  Sage came to me just after the New Year, an email out of the blue from Mary.  It might not be the right dog.  We'll see.

The house seemed a little empty yesterday without Murph.  We'll see.

Murphy's day.