37-74% Australian Shepherd

The waiting is over. Yesterday I received my DNA Breed Identification from Bio Pet Vet Lab. I still do not know anything about the identity of my Daddy or Mommy but according to Bio Vet Pet Lab’s analysis of my DNA, I am 37-74 % Australian Shepherd, 20-36 % Boston Terrier, 20-36% Brittany, and 10-19% Bull Terrier. Who Knew? Apparently, through a strange quirk of genetics, I only look like a Chocolate Lab.

We (that is my human companions and I) think that my diverse genetic ancestry is very appropriate for a Dog living in the New York City Borough of Queens. After all, Queens is one of the most, if not the most ethnically diverse community on earth and where people as well as dogs from various genetic backgrounds are perhaps mixing DNA as never before.

In case you are wondering what the Bio Pet Vet Lab DNA Breed Identification test kit looks like, there is a picture of the packaging and the contents at the upper right. As advertized, it took about three weeks from the date we mailed off the cheek swabs until we received the results.

By the way, the Australian Shepherd, according to the American Kennel Club, developed in the Pyrenees Mountains somewhere between Spain and France. Again, according to AKC, The Brittany was named for the French province where it originated. There is a great deal of resemblance between the Brittany and Welsh Springer Spaniel, which leads many people to believe that the two breeds share the same ancestors. It is possible that native Brittany spaniels mated with English pointing dogs around 1900. That means I do indeed have some deep Celtic roots and so my name is still appropriate.

Who’s My Daddy?

My name is Myrrhlyn. I am a dog. I am not just a dog, I am an adopted dog. I am a rescue. My human caretakers adopted me August 7, 2009. My first vet estimated that I was born March 24, 2009, but I remember very little about my biological family. My adoptive human “parents” know even less.

When my new human family picked me up at Wilma’s Orphans, a canine orphanage on Long Island, they were told that I was a Labrador Retriever mix, perhaps mostly Chocolate Lab. They knew I was not a pure bred but had no idea what breed, other than Retriever, might be in my blood line. When people look at me they sometimes see a little Doberman, Boxer, Bull Terrier and Rottweiler mixed in. I have no idea who or what my daddy was, nor do I know anything about my mother.

My human companions recently purchased a DNA Breed Identification kit from BioPet Vet Lab. Using two cotton swabs they collected DNA from the inside of my cheeks and mailed the sample away for analysis. Very soon we should receive the results and then we will all know more about my breed background.

When we receive the results of the DNA analysis, I will let you know what we learn. Until then, my humans know a few things about me for certain. They know that I am still a growing puppy who makes his fair share of mistakes and that sometimes I can be a demanding pest as much as a loving pet. But look at this picture of me lying on a futon. Do I look like I could get into any mischief?

Myrrhlyn’s Summit to Shore Day

For a few hours Vicki and I liberated Myrrhlyn from Bayside Kennels, where we have been boarding him since Saturday morning. Our first stop was nearby Mount Trashmore, where Myrrhlyn bagged his first summit (photo top left). With an elevation of 60 feet, Mount Trashmore is perhaps one of the highest natural points in Virginia Beach, offering a commanding view of parkland, the Interstate, and nearby office parks and housing developments.

After descending from Mount Trashmore we drove southeast to our second stop, Back Bay National Wildlife Refuge, where Myrrhlyn experienced (I am not sure “enjoyed” would be the right word) his second kayaking trip (photo top right). We paddled only forty minutes and about a mile, and Myrrhlyn eventually found his way out of Vicki’s sit-on-top and into the water. With a little help he eventually climbed back into Vicki’s kayak. We then paddled back to the put in and called it a day.

After his summit to shore day, Myrrhlyn seemed relieved when we dropped him back off at the Kennel, as if he preferred to be in a warm and cozy kennel rather than climbing reclaimed landfills and swimming in cold brackish water.

The Blizzard of 2009

That is what it is being called, "The Blizzard of 2009". Here in the New York metropolitan area we received more snow in this single eighteen hour storm than all of last winter. With the wind blowing the snow around it was hard to get a reliable measurement of the snowfall’s depth. Nevertheless I measured between ten and twelve inches in our back yard (photo top right). That may not seem much by West Virginia mountain standards but around here it is a lot.

North Church Queens made the decision soon after 7:00 AM to cancel worship. Our winter weather cancellation policy is that if two of the following three people decide and agree to cancel, the service will be cancelled. The three people are the worship leader (in this case me, or a guest preacher if I am away), the Clerk of Session, and the Moderator of the Board of Deacons. Cancelling if two of the above three agree almost insures that a decision can be reached, even if one of the three people cannot be reached.

Considering that I live over twelve miles away from North Church, I did not mind not having to drive on the wintery roads yesterday, even though the snow had stopped and the wind had died down. There were still plenty of slick spots and many of the side streets were barely passable so, even though my Sermon was prepared, I was happy to stay off the roads.

The Ridgewood Presbyterian Church, where my wife serves as Pastor, did have worship. Since we live just around the corner from the church there was no question about the worship leader and preacher being able to make it. Eleven hearty souls also made it and so at 10:00 AM we worshipped together and I was able to worship with the Ridgewood Presbyterian Church and hear my wife preach for the first time in a long time.

The Blizzard of 2009 was our dog Myrrhlyn’s first snow fall. He was scared for about the first 15 seconds but quickly came to love it. He frolicked in the drifts, dug through the snow to make sure the dirt and sidewalk were still there, and attempted to catch and eat falling snowflakes (photo bottom right). Now, after the storm, he is enjoying finding and crunching on chunks of ice.

Welcome to My Neighborhood: The Morning Walk (Part 4 – Myrtle Avenue)

Myrtle Avenue and Fresh Pond Road, at right angles to one another, are the main commercial avenues of Ridgewood. Fresh Pond runs north to south and Myrtle runs east to west. Their intersection at the southern terminus of Fresh Pond marks the boundary between the neighborhoods of Ridgewood and Glendale. If you were standing on this corner, however, you would not know it, as there are no signs or other makers identifying the boundary.

The sidewalk along the north side of Myrtle is a little cleaner this morning than usual (photo top right). Sometimes it can be quiet a mess and the sidewalk cleaner employed by the Myrtle Avenue Business Inmprovement District can barely keep up with the accumulating trash. Pushing along a large garbage can on wheels he picks up and sweeps refuse off the sidewalk. I imagine he must fill up the trash barrel once a block, if not more often. He is the other person, along with the two school crossing guards, I usually encounter while walking Myrrhlyn in the mornings. This being a Saturday, however, he must not be cleaning today because I do not see him.

As Myrrhlyn and I walk west along Myrtle, store owners are beginning to open for business, unlocking and raising the metal cage pull down barriers that protects them during the night. When I first moved to the neighborhood a little over two years ago I found these security measures a little intimidating, even fear producing, especially at night. During the day Myrtle Avenue is a hot bed of vehicular and pedestrian commercial and social activity and the metal cages are out of sight, rolled up above the store fronts. At night, however, when I walk along the street coming home from the subway late at night, I can feel like I live in an abandoned ghetto, like Newark after the riots, business locked up against looters. I am glad I am usually not walking along Myrtle late at night.

The closer we get to home the more familiar I am with the business we pass. We walk by my local Chase Bank on our right, with its ten language ATM’s in the lobby, Across the street on our left is our Post Office, where I sometimes wait in line for thirty minutes or more just to pick up a package. The smell of frying bacon greets us from a nearby Coffee Shop & Restaurant. Dunkin’ Donuts (photo second from top right), a popular stop for commuters, is across the street.

When we first moved to Ridgewood, before we unpacked the coffee pot and set up the kitchen, Dunkin’ Donuts coffee and donuts was our sustenance. While there are other coffee shops in the neighborhood in addition to Dunkin’ Donuts, there is no Starbucks close enough to walk to, so this morning, like most mornings, I will go home, grind Starbucks House Blend beans in the Braun grinder and make our own coffee. I am, after all, a Starbuck stockholder, so every time I drink a cup I feel like I am getting a return on my purchase.

As Myrrhlyn and I stroll along Myrtle Avenue we pass in and out of sun and shade. We walk in bright warming sunshine when the buildings across the street are low enough to allow the rising southern sun to reach the sidewalk. But when the buildings reach over two stories they block the morning rays and we walk in cooler shade. I prefer walking in the sunlight and I think Myrrhlyn does too.

As we approach Key Foods (thrird photo from top right), one of the grocery stores we frequent because it is one of the closest, I appreciate seeing the fresh cut flowers out front. The flower market was not offered when we moved here.

A boarded up store front juts out onto the side walk (fourth photo from top right) in front of us. The building is actually being renovated and the barrier provides a margin of safety as well as security. In spite of the recession the Ridgewood Myrtle Avenue business district near our home seems to be hanging on. Not many storefronts are empty and when a business closes it seems not to take long for a new one to open in the same space.

One of the new businesses that have opened in the past two years is Green Line Market (bottom photo right), where I usually shop no less than every other day and sometimes twice a day. When the sun shines on the fruit and vegetable bins lining the sidewalk outside, Green Line is the most colorful storefront in the neighborhood. Sometimes when I walk by I marvel at the various shapes, sizes and especially colors of the produce. There are a few other markets like this in the neighborhood and numerous ones throughout New York City, but Green Line is the nearest, and a new experience for me since I moved here. Until two years ago I was unfamiliar with such sidewalk fruit and vegetable venders but now they are one of my favorite parts of living in the city.

Not far from home we walk through and past the only public park along our walk, Myrtle Triangle Park. This morning the bench is empty but later in the day various locals will start sitting on it, occasionally throwing bread crumbs and other food for the pigeons. Unfortunately Myrrhlyn also likes those bread crumbs. Sometimes, on warmer nights, a homeless person will sleep on that bench.

Not far off to our right is Ridgewood Stamps and Coins with a storefront and signage that is a thow back to the 50's, not the most welcoming or inviting coin shop I have ever been in, and Eddie’s Hairstyling & Barbering, where Leo cuts my hair. We cross the street near Queens Wines and Liquors, which offers one of the best selection of wines in Queens and on Friday and Saturday evenings offers free tastings, and soon pass by our favorite Chinese restaurant. Next, we pass our favorite Chinese restaurant and take out, Mr. Chen’s, where owners, Ken and Emily, are the proud parents of newborn Grace, whom we have yet to meet. This early in the morning, however, most of these business are still closed. Only Queens Wines and Liquors has taken up its security gate. It is usually the first local business to open. Sometimes they will be unlocking when Myrrhlyn and I walk by in the mornings.

At the intersection of Myrtle Avenue and Forest Avenue we turn right and head north on Forest. Our morning circuit is almost complete and soon Myrrhlyn and I will be back home, thirty minutes after leaving. Myrrhlyn has done all that he has needed to do. Both he and I feel better.

Welcome to My Neighborhood: The Morning Walk (Part 3 – Fresh Pond Road)

The corner of 68th Avenue and Fresh Pond Road marks the halfway point of our usual morning walk. The corner is a transition from the generally clean and quiet residential one-way 68th Avenue to the often trashy, loud, commercial two-way thoroughfare of Fresh Pond Road. At the corner we turn right and head south along Fresh Pond. I have been walking this route over two years and still I do not know if there is a pond, or if it is fresh.

Fresh Pond Road is the other main north-south artery through Ridgewood, Forest Avenue being the other one, but it is a lot busier and more commercial than Forest. Had we turned north rather than south we would have reached the Fresh Pond station on the “M” line in just a few blocks. Fresh Pond is perhaps the part of our walk were we encounter the most people. During the week Myrrhlyn and I occasionally dodge pedestrians as we make our way along what can be a crowded sidewalk. On Saturday morning’s, however, and when school is not in session, few people are out and about.

When school is in session two School Crossing Guards make crossing the busy streets a little easier and safer. The two uniformed women, one a woman of color and the other Anglo, are usually the first two people I recognize on our walks. Someday I must stop and take the time to ask them their names.

Myrrhlyn finds another stick (top photo right). This one is not forked and so the leash does not tangled in it. With the stick in his mouth we pass Mr. Bagel and my mouth starts to water, as it does most mornings. When the weather is just right this bakery, and another one down the block, will prop open their doors, allowing the aroma of fresh baked bread, bagels, and coffee cakes to waft out onto the street. The aroma is the best advertizing money can’t buy. Since I always have Myrrhlyn in tow as I pass, however, I cannot enter to better smell, look, buy and eat.

Further south along Fresh Pond, we pass Catalpa Avenue feeding in from the southeast on our left. Today the sun shines brightly along the route, rising over what appears to be the end of the Avenue. Illuminated by the rising morning sun is the storefront (second photo from top right) of a “Spiritual Reader & Advisor.” A crystal ball, geodes, and candles sit on the inside sill and on the table (third photo from top right), a mixture of New Age and Roman Catholic spirituality with what I assume to be an Hispanic and Eastern European flavor. I wonder if this particular spiritual entrepreneur can read paws and advise Myrrhlyn. If you are a human and your spirit does not find sustenance with the Spiritual Reader & Advisor there is always Beata Bakery (bottom photo right), the second on our walk, next door, and the Polskie Delikatesy further down the block.

The city’s motorized street cleaner approaches from the north, behind us, as it does on many of our walks. The shape, size and speed of the street cleaning vehicle reminds me of a Zamboni and is usually the loudest vehicle we encounter along our morning walk. Marylyn is not particularly fond of it. He seems to be annoyed by it, especially when it kicks up dust. Occasionally we will see it stopped at a hydrant, its driver operator refilling the water tank, preparing to spray some more roadway before sweeping away debris.

As the street cleaner passes I look up to focus on something that catches my eye. It is a seagull, floating overhead, reminding me that I live on an island and that the Atlantic Ocean is only a few miles away to the south. Without the occasional gull and warm, humid air serving as sensory reminders, I could easily overlook the fact that I live in a coastal environment.

At the southern end of Fresh Pond, where the thoroughfare dead-end intersects with Myrtle Avenue, we reach the boundary of the neighborhoods of Ridgewood and Glendale and the end of the third leg of our morning walk. Turning our backs toward Glendale we pivot right onto Myrtle Avenue and head west, toward home.

Welcome to My Neighborhood: The Morning Walk (Part 2 - 68th Avenue)

Turning right off Forest Avenue onto 68th Avenue, Myrrhlyn and I walk east. With his teeth Myrrhlyn grabs a forked stick off the sidewalk (photo top right), chewing sticks being another of his passions. With stick in his mouth he struts down the sidewalk as if he just won the Best of Show at the Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show, his new stick his trophy. After a few proud struts, however, the leash tangles in the fork of this wooden trophy and Myrrhlyn uncharacteristically abandons his prize after only a few more steps. This will not be the only stick Myrrhlyn retrieves this morning without anyone throwing it.

The sidewalk along 68th Avenue is quieter and cleaner than Myrtle Avenue. 68th is a one way Avenue, almost entirely residential, and we are walking against traffic, so no cars or busses will be sneaking up from behind. The only time excessive trash litters this route is after a breezy garbage day when the wind gathers debris and deposits it at will. Maybe that is why this part of our morning walk is my favorite. It is usually quiet and clean.

Continuing our stroll I begin hearing sounds of the “M,” a block or two away on our left. This is the same subway line that often carries me into Manhattan and brings me back home. Sometimes I have to transfer to the “J” to make it all the way into the city and back again. During rush hour, however, the “M” runs the whole way. I hardly ever ride the “M” between the Forest Avenue Station and its eastern terminus at Metropolitan Avenue.

The subway's volume and pitch rises as it approaches, and then, according to the laws of physics, lowers and fades as it passes. Without being able to see the elevated tracks I do not know if the train is headed east, toward Manhattan, or west, toward Metropolitan. In case there was any doubt, the sound of the subway reminds me that I live and walk in an urban environment.

An American flag hangs from the outside of a window (photo second from top right), as I think it usually does, its hem tucked between the bottom of the sash and the windowsill. Today, though, I notice that the upper window is decorated with vinyl peel and stick turkeys for Thanksgiving, the sort of holiday decorations that you might buy at Michel’s or K-Mart. More stars and stripes hang suspended from a pole a few doors down (third photo from top right). Many of the residents along 68th Avenue seem to take great pride in the neighborhood, keeping it clean, proclaiming their patriotism, and observing holidays with various decorations.


Even though most of the homes were originally identical row houses, they have been around long enough for the residents to undertake renovations. I could probably find and photograph enough unique doors on the front of these homes, doors of various woods adorned with brass ornamentation and cut glass inserts, to publish a door poster or door calendar, the sort that celebrate cities and historic neighborhoods. As I walk past these doors I wonder who lives on the other side and what lives they live. What language do they speak? What faith, if any, do they practice?

Occasionally I will see a parent before work delivering a son or daughter to child care or picking one up to take to school. Sometimes I will see older residents sweeping their sidewalk or putting out trash. But there are no familiar faces on this street, no one I remember seeing on a regular basis. Cities can be so anonymous.

When we reach where 68th Avenue dead ends at Fresh Pond Road we are at the halfway point of our walk. The municipal trash can at the corner offers me the first opportunity since we left home to dispose of any flourescent orange doggie bags I used along the way. I do because I did because Myrrhlyn did doo-doo as we walked along 68th Avenue. Now he feels better, and so do I.

Welcome to My Neighborhood: The Morning Walk (Part 1 - Forest Avenue)

This morning, like most mornings, Myrrhlyn and I walk our 1.1 mile circuit around the neighborhood. The walk, and its route, is our morning routine, unless it is raining. It is not raining this morning. The sky is blue and the the air crisp. Since it is Saturday, the neighborhood is fairly quiet and just waking up.

Heading north on Forest Avenue (photo top right) we safely cross the first of fourteen street crossings on our route. Some of the crossings are controlled by traffic lights with pedestrian signals, but some are not. Our first crossing is not, so we carefully look for oncoming traffic.

Not long after our first crossing Myrrhlyn finds a discarded tissue (photo second right from top) . Yes, it is gross; but Myrrhlyn has a thing for discarded white tissues and paper towels. It seems I am always stooping over to force open his mouth to pull them out. Today is no exception.

Forest Avenue is one of two major north-south traffic arteries in Ridgewood, almost dividing Ridgewood between east and west. Forest is not a major commercial street but it is a bus route. I can hear the gentle rise and fall of the light traffic noise until the louder and deeper hum of an MTA bus approaches us from the south and eventually overtakes and passes us. I am always embarrassed when Myrrhlyn decides to do his business near a bus stop of waiting commuters or next to a stopped bus with passengers looking on. He does not embarrass me this morning.

Myrrhlyn also has a thing for pigeons. If he sees any within five or ten feet ahead, as he does this morning, like a stalking wolf in the wild he slows his gate, slinks lower to the ground and tries to sneak up on them, lunging for them at the last possible moment. But he has never come close to actually catching one of these winged rats of the city so I am not too concerned about their safety or his.

During any given walk we sometimes encounter other dogs being walked by their owners. At times Myrrhlyn calmly ignores them. Once in awhile he gives them a passing glance and growl. Occasionally he barks up a frenzy, as if his world and very being is threatened. Today he is calm. Even when we cross the street in order to avoid a large dog and its owner who are approaching us he ignores them and does not make a murmur.

In addition to discarded tissues and pigeons my canine walking companion also has a thing for discarded food he finds on the street. I other words, my dog likes garbage, even chicken bones. As we near the end of the Myrtle Avenue segment of our walk, with the speed of light Myrrhlyn grabs something off the sidewalk and starts chewing it. By the time I open his cavernous mouth to remove what I discover is a small chicken bone, the bone is already near the back of his throat and I have to reach deep within to pull it out. I have lost count of how many such bones I have already pulled out of his chops these past few months. When will he learn? When will he stop?

Road Trip

For only the first or second time since my first blog post on January 5, 2009, I have gone a week without posting anything. The reason is that I have been on vacation, a vacation that included a road trip (this post) and two days of continuing education (future post).

A week ago Vicki and I packed up the car and, with Myrrhlyn in a travel kennel in the car, headed out of the city. We were destined for central Ohio where Vicki was to co-officiate at a wedding for a couple of our former students.

It was Myrrhlyn’s first road trip. He was a great traveler, throwing up only once! He seemed not to mind riding in his travel kennel and was occasionally invited out of the kennel to sit on the lap of the person in the passenger seat (photo top right).

I had forgotten that Pennsylvania is over three hundred miles from east to west, that is if one drives on Interstate 80. I-80 has at least one redeeming attribute. It is not the Pennsylvania Turnpike.

Nine hours and five hundred miles later we pulled into Loudonville, Ohio, population slightly over 3,000 and our home for the next two days. Loudonville impressed me as a quintessential American small town with a slight artsy-crafty flavor. Too many closed business and boarded up buildings, however, betrayed the current recession and the fiscal plight of small town America. Loudonville, located near the Mohican River, also happens to be the canoe capital of Ohio, and it was frustrating to be there without our kayaks or the time to enjoy the river.

Bride Megan and Groom Eric (photo middle right) are both recent graduates of Davis and Elkins College, where Vicki served as Chaplain for ten years and I taught religion and philosophy as adjunct faculty her last five years at D&E. Attending Eric’s and Meghan’s wedding was like attending a small college reunion not of classmates but former students. At least four of my former students were in attendance. Even more former students Vicki knew were in attendance.

Vicki co-officiated with Chris, Meghan’s Presbyterian Pastor since the day he baptized her as an infant. The bride’s father is, by the way, the Clerk of Session of Meghan’s home Church where Chris is still Pastor. Eric and his family are also Presbyterian.

On the way home we detoured through Cleveland in order to visit the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Actually, it would be more correct to say that we detoured through Cleveland in order to visit the Bruce Springsteen Exhibit (photo bottom right) at the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.

Unfortunately, driving home across Pennsylvania took just as long driving west to east as it did east to west. The Keystone State had not shrunk any during the two days we were in Ohio.

So, the above is partly while I have been silent for nearly a week. The other reason, two days of continuing education, will the subject of a future post.

Myrrhlyn Raises $10 in CROP Walk

My first CROP Walk was probably 1981. I have walked in CROP Walks in New Jersey, North Carolina, West Virginia and New York to help raise awareness of and funds to combat hunger. For a year or two I was even the Treasurer for the Crop Walk in Gaston County, NC. For the last three years I have walked with my wife and members of her church, the Ridgewood Presbyterian Church (photo left), walking laps around Juniper Valley Park in the New York City Borough of Queens. This was the first year our dog (he is still really a puppy) Myrrhlyn walked in a CROP Walk, however. He even wore a CROP Walk sticker on his rump (bottophoto left). And he raised $10! How much money has you dog, or cat, or other pet raised to end hunger?

As we walked around Juniper Valley Park last Saturday in the CROP Walk Myrrhlyn wanted to visit with all the other dogs in the park. Whenever he sniffed other dogs and they sniffed him a conversation would usually arise between us and the humans with the other dogs.

During our first lap around the park Myrrhlyn walked up to a fully grown Black Lab and his human companion. As the two dogs sniffed each other, the gentleman with the Black Lab asked us about the sticker on Myrrhlyn’s rump. We told him about CROP and Church World Service and explained that we were walking to raise money to help fight hunger. The gentleman then reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet, and gave us two five dollar bills. We were most thankful. Myrrhlyn did not verbally acknowledge the gift but seemed thankful nevertheless.

Myrrhlyn Goes Kayaking

What a day to forget to bring my camera along, our dog Myrrhlyn’s first kayaking trip! Late Saturday afternoon we took Myrrhlyn to the Sebago Canoe Club, hauled our sit-on-tops down to the dock, and with Myrrhlyn in the cockpit of my wife Vicki’s kayak we paddled out under the Belt Parkway Bridge into Jamaica Bay. We beached just beyond the bridge to see how Myrrhlyn would handle the beach and surf. He loved the beach, stayed close to us, but would not walk out into the water from the beach. He did, however, climb up into the cockpit of my wife’s kayak which was half on the beach and half in the water. Balancing himself as the kayak rocked to and fro while he worked his way out to the stern, he jumped from the stern into the water, waded out until he had to swim, and then swam out to as where we were standing about knee to thigh deep. He did this three times.

With dark clouds building and evening approaching we loaded Myrrhlyn back into Vicki’s boat and headed back to Sebago. Midway we rafted up and Myrrhlyn climbed from Vicki’s boat into mine. After paddling with Myrrhlyn in my boat for awhile we rafted up again, had Myrrhlyn climb from my Kayak back into Vicki’s, and then headed into the Sebago dock.

Back at Sebago we hosed down our boats, our gear and Myrrhlyn.

All in all we probably spent less than two hours at Sebago, but it was two hours well spent. We are now convinced that Myrrhlyn is indeed a water dog. I have yet to determine if he is a mountain dog.

Introducing Myrrhlyn

Drum roll please!

Myrrhlyn came to live with us Thursday. He was being sheltered under the name “Dusty” at Wilma’s Orphan’s Inc. “Dusty” was also Hermes’ name when we adopted him and Wilma was my mother’s name. More synchronicity?

We went to visit Wilma and Dusty a week ago. After our visit Wilma processed our application, contacted our references, and approved us adopting Dusty.

Wilma delivered this cute bundle of canine energy Thursday morning. The photo of Myrrhlyn at right is not the best picture but it is the first, taken as he was approaching our home.

We had been thinking about names and had narrowed the choices down to three or four but decided to wait twenty-four hours after Myrrhlyn came to live with us before finally deciding. He have chosen a Welsh variation of the name of the magician, seer, and teacher of Arthurian Legend, a variation which also alludes to one of the gifts of the Magi to the Christ Child, a gift often used for the embalming, funeral incense, and Christian liturgy. The Welsh variation also recognizes our love of Celtic tradition and lore as well as interest in Celtic Christianity.

Myrrhlyn has been with us for nearly 48 hours. He is affectionate, intelligent, has a lot of puppy energy, and has had very few “accidents” in the house. His vet records estimate that he was born March 24, 2009. He appears to be a Chocolate Lab but is certainly a Labrador Retriever Mix.