Above: saying goodbye to Titan and Scarlett, Totem’s parents // Eagle Mountain, UT
I discovered Wasatch Newfoundlands in Utah 2 months before the litter was born. Amy the owner and breeder. was very accommodating: our handful of phone conversations during that time were long and informative as she bestowed on me her 16 years of knowledge of this magnificent breed. The more I learned the more I knew it was going to be one of the most exciting, challenging, yet rewarding journeys of my life to have the privilege of owning this dog. I was ready for the hair, the drool, the larger-than-life poop, and any travel inconveniences. The pros would outweigh the cons as most great undertakings in life would not be great without such inconveniences. Remember that famous Tom Hanks quote, “There’s no crying in baseball”? Well, there’s no crying in puppy potty training (as I am speaking right now), grinning n’ baring it, all for the jubilation Totem brings me outside of the struggle.
Originally I wanted a male (subcononciously due to the lack of male presence in my life living as a single gal, as I’m sure most women can attest) and the name Totem would be so befitting for him. I came up with it while running by a totem pole earlier this summer in Prince Rupert, B.C.—“What a delightful name for a boy dog!”, I thought—and it stuck with me. The ultra feminine name “Thumbelina” was my first choice if I got a girl, but my best friend said saying “thumbellina” would get tiring with all those syllables, and she thought Totem would also be befitting for girl, why not! And what do you know, when my turn came around (a couple weeks prior to pick up), there was just one female brown left in the litter and my eyes quickly snatched her up—Hello, little Totem. Yep, I’m still going to name you Totem!
It was dusk when I pulled into the driveway after 7 hours of driving from Colorado and I saw my little chocolate dumpling romping around the yard. Amy had the dad and mom present, too, which was so adorable. Totem had just been weened a week earlier so she was still trying to get to her mom’s belly area for a snack. She also frolicked around her dad who seemed unimpressed by his offspring’s enthusiasm towards him as he gazed stoically into the field. “Does he even know this is his?” I asked Amy. “Probably not”, she chuckled. Titan is a champion stud, and his lineage involved commercial tv and show dog work, so he has been siring litters for years. Scarlett the mother is just a few litters in and knows Totem is hers. I gave them both a head massage and silently communicated that I would take good care of their little girl. We drive off and she whimpered a little, the first time she was away from her parents and first night away from sleeping with all her litter mates—it made me tear up! What I’ve been reflecting on since that moment is how animals lack so many traits of our human exceptionalism in E.Q. and I.Q., but the commonalities we still share are loneliness and scaredness. I knew that’s what Totem experienced her first night.
I woke up 2 times with her that night and subsequent nights. I guess it will be like this for a few months until she can hold her bladder until the morning. Oddly, I look forward to our twilight potty outings. Instead of chasing a leak, she would sometimes chase a leaf—at 3am how could I not laugh that this dog woke me up just to chase foliage? Plus, I’ve never seen a tail wag faster—it’s like puppies get a second high in the middle of the night. Sometimes the presence of struggle is where we find forms of endearment for people—and our animals. Upon reflection, It’s almost like I yearned for an inconvenience, a disruption in my life—as my existence living as a single was becoming too comfortable, too selfish. I wanted some healthy tension competing for the time I had to myself (which I get plenty of because she takes like 6 naps a day).