So. in all the excitement I forgot the details.

We have been thinking about a puppy for a lo-o-ong time. Our last dog, Holly (a Christmas present to my brand new husband – Holly, geddit?), a German Shepherd x Collie died a very old lady five years ago. We were too heartbroken to go rushing off out to replace her, and then I fell pregnant with Bear, and we did the sensible grown up thing and waited. We both adore big dogs, and there was no way were going to do the whole puppy thing with a new baby, or a huge dog thing with a  toddler. So we waited.

Every now and then I would send links and pictures to C of rottweiler puppies, cooing and begging. He held firm – which was good, as it was definitely not the right thing to do. But it was fun pushing him, anyway.

Last summer we had a ‘serious’ talk, and both agreed that once Bear started school in Sep 2011, then we would begin looking. With no children at home all day, it would be the perfect time to introduce a puppy.

We knew we wanted a rottweiler (despite populist daily-Mail fed opinion, they are a wonderful family dog – intelligent, calm, kind and devoted), and we knew we needed one from a good breeder. We both agreed this was one breed we wouldn’t take on as a rescue with young children in the house. Holly was a rescue, we would happily rescue another dog – but just not this time. I’m quite QUITE sure that 99% of all unwanted rottweilers awaiting a new home in rescue centres around the country would make gorgeous family dogs. But we don’t have the luxury of time to correct any bad habits – we need a dog with four young children to be brought up with OUR rules, right from the beginning, with the ultimate faith and trust in the family – so we can have that ultimate trust in her, right form the start.

Unbeknown to me, C spotted a litter just down the road (there are very few Rottweiler breeders in Dorset and surrounding counties), born on September 14th. He rang the breeder, asked the right questions, then a few weeks later snuck off and picked out the prettiest of the bunch. Fast forward two months of covert communications, a week of bursting-at-the-seams-but-refusing-to-tell-me, then a mysterious insistence that we all wait in the lounge with curtains drawn whilst he popped out for ten minutes…

And so Harogebulls Queen Zena (or rather, Blue) joined our family.

We don’t love her much.