Meet Julip
Triumphant’s (we haven’t agreed on a name yet)
It was about this time of year, nine years ago, I joined a new community. A community of the Brittany. Mostly of the American flavor, although some French and some mixed; all with some type of championship blood line – the traditional kind that come from in the field and in the show ring, demonstrating a certain ability to follow direction well – and some that come from their ability to overcome all obstacles life put in front of them, coming out as loving as can be on the other side.
This community comes with support of all types as well. From breeders of merit to support you, and your dog, through happy times and sad. People that you’ve never met, but you know their dogs through the furm (if you know, you know). And folks from across the nation, all interconnected, helping to get Britts who end up in precarious circumstances to the other side of their chapter.
Breeders. Facebook Groups. Rescue.
On a Saturday in April, Steve and I went to meet a new friend, Linda McCartney. Linda was a recommendation from Helen, the master mind behind the creation of Utley (the most perfect boy in the world). For only having met Helen in person a hand full of times, she entrusted me with two of her dogs in very short order, never led me astray in the field, and always tells me like it is. When she relocated south and west, and Steve and I moved more east and north; it was no longer feasible to expand our little family with another Wid Mtn Brittany. Upon meeting Linda, I realized we knew a lot of the same people and the same dogs. When she started rattling off the linage of Utley’s dad, I knew we were in the right place. Instantly at home, and handed a little white and liver girl, I knew in my heart, my community instantly grew another limb.
This little liver girl has been the cubulation of many months of thought and many conversations across my community. From trainers, and friends, to countless hours of discussion with Steve. Are we ready? How will Ultey respond? Is our house Brittany Proof enough for a puppy? Will this acquisition make Utley’s already weakening heart explode? Will this help get me back outside after years of instability and loss? How will I feel when I bring home the first animal that hasn’t intersected with Igby (my barn cat circa 2003 – 2019) since, like, I don’t know, 1993? How will I feel having my first dog that dad will never meet?
And here we are. On the other side. If sections of life are perceived in chapters, this is a new one at 99 Barn Cat Lane. For the first time, I feel like I can close the door on the chapter that was leaving Pittsburgh, and Michigan, and so much loss. To close the door on pregnancy, and IVF, and the loss of our baby boy. The loss of Lily, and of Igby. And knowing, she will be with us when the time comes for Utley, and will, without miss a beat, shepherd us through.
And, she will be here for all the adventures to come. For time in the field, and time in the stream. To make memories as our little family of four, eating oysters, picking crabs, gently pulling lamb off the lollipop bones, and swimming in pools. Late nights around the fire and long mornings in bed.
Never, in my wildest dreams, did I see myself, sitting in my own little farmhouse, with my own red barn, waking up each day next to someone who puts so much in my cup. And we get to do it all, with the companionship of a bird dog. Oh – this life we designed.
Welcome to the family, Julip. May your dash be a long one with a lot of adventure in between.
—
Julip is the name of a charter in a Jim Harrison novel. Although I have not read much of Harrison, my husband has. I like my husband, and I also like many of the same things Jim Harrison held dear – such as bird dogs, a healthy curiosity of authority, Livingston (Montana), oysters, and red wine. Anybody who’s obituary in the New York Times chronicles a time someone ate 144 oysters, is okay in my book.