When that new puppy comes home

Her name is Abigail, “Abby” for short, and she’s the newest addition to the McNitt family. Following almost a year and a half after losing our beloved Belle, an English pointer, to liver cancer, this pint-sized seven-week old dynamo of a German Short-haired pointer pup will undoubtedly turn our life upside down – at least for a while. But that’s okay; that’s what new puppies are for.



We picked her up in Cobleskill on Tuesday, choosing her from a liter of nine. Of course, more often than not, the pup picks you out and not visa versa. We wanted a female (I’ve always preferred females to males with bird dog breeds (sorry, guys), and since there were only two females in the liter, our work of choosing was substantially narrowed.

We looked at all the pups, small whimpering hyper-active bundles of pure energy that chewed your fingers and seemed to cry “Pick me, pick me.” But Vinnie Woessner, the kennel owner, advised that one of the females was more “laid back” than the other. A brief handling and play session seemed to bear that out, so in the carrier she went, much to the concern of her mother and siblings.

Now for the real test – the long trip home. I knew beforehand that being separated from her family and the only home she’d known in her short life would not be easy on her. No sooner had we pulled onto I-88 and the whimpering and crying began. That lasted for about half an hour, followed by a power nap in her carrier. No sooner had we exited the interstate than it began anew, in real earnest this time. That continued all the way home, and actually carried over once in the house.


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