Introducing: Norman G Rembrandt Van Spaceman

I grew up with dogs. I've never been without one. Over the past 20 years we've had a Miniature Schnauzer, a Wire Fox Terrier, a Rottie mix, and about 7 Cairn Terriers (as well as a zoo full of other pets).

The Cairns and our Rottie stayed back home with the family, but when I went off to college a few years ago I found myself without a dog for the first time in my life. Half way through my freshman year I couldn't stand the lack of animals and smuggled my lionhead rabbit into my dorm room. He was a good roommate; quiet and unassuming. He never ate my food or borrowed clothes without asking. Being able to cuddle him when I returned from 10 hour days of class did wonders for keeping me out of the freshman slumps, and people seemed to find it hilarious that the little white rabbit that ran around room 56 used a litter box like a cat.

When I moved into a house off campus I brought my bunny Pixi with me. He would throw little happy fits where he would take off racing throughout the house and then come to a dead stop and sit calmly next to me. His spastic nature is what prompted me to name him 'Pixi Stix' in the first place, but everyone seemed to enjoy watching his 'episodes'.

Still, despite having Pixi I missed my dogs. My Rottie, Emily was going on 14 and the knowledge that her age was taking a toll on her brought tears to my eyes. Having picked her out myself when I was 6 years old, I felt a special bond. She had been there almost as long as I could remember. My younger brothers couldn't remember a time before she was around. I didn't know how I was going to deal with the passing of my dog, especially from half a state away.

I toyed with the idea of getting a puppy. In no way was I trying to replace Emily, but I thought that by getting a puppy to raise and bond with it might help me deal with Emily's mortality. I started researching different breeds online, something I enjoyed doing in my spare time, but now I was trying to find one that would fit my lifestyle.

For anyone considering getting a dog, I highly recommend researching different dog breeds. Even if you are just going to get a mix from the shelter, knowing the size, energy level and problems associated with the breeds in its genealogy are great indicators of how the dog will turn out. If the dog is a husky/beagle mix for example, it is going to be a loud, high energy dog. Being prepared for the issues that come with having a dog is a huge step in making sure you live a happy life with your pet.

In doing my research I had criteria that the dog had to meet:

• it needed to be a small to medium sized dog
• it needed to have a comparable energy level to myself
• I didn't want a dog that required excessive grooming
• I didn't want a 'loud' breed
• I wanted a breed that was relatively free of health problems (sadly, this ruled out some of my favorite breeds, like the King Charles Cavalier)
• I wanted a breed that was AKC recognized
  
• I would have liked for it to be a breed that made people cautious around it

Note: I was not looking for a vicious or aggressive dog, quite the opposite. However, as a young, small (under 100lbs) girl who would be shortly living alone in an area 10 minutes from a high crime area in a large city, I appreciated the thought of people thinking twice about approaching me when they saw my dog.

I settled on a Miniature Bull Terrier. Growing up, my grandparents had owned a standard Bull Terrier by the name of Pearl. She looked just like Spuds, with a big black eye patch and a goofy egg-shaped head. While she was a good dog and playful, she could give a look that would make people take a step back. It made my grandma feel safe to know Pearl was there when my grandpa was away; when salesmen or other strangers would come knocking, Pearl's mere presence sitting calmly by my grandma and watching the visitor was enough to make them considerate of their intentions. When someone came into their house while my grandparents were away, Pearl refused to let them leave. My grandparents returned home to find the neighbor sitting at their kitchen table, Pearl sitting dutifully in front of the door. She hadn't bitten or tried to attack, but when he attempted to move past her to leave she blocked his way and growled. She remained sitting in front of the door watching their 'guest' until her masters returned and escorted him out. She really proved out the old saying, "A bull terrier might let a burgler in, but he won't get out."

So began the search for my perfect puppy. Mini Bulls are a rarer breed, and legitimately registered ones even more so. Searching for a puppy is really searching for a good breeder, and I managed to find one in Oklahoma. Unfortunately, I live in western New York, so some coordination was required. Eventually, however, I found my perfect pup. The breeder called him 'Dozer' and he was a brindle colored AKC registerable Miniature Bull Terrier. On the night of October 24th I waited impatiently at the airport for his flight to come in. When his crate was carried through the door I was trying not to burst with excitement. I know that being overly excited is not the proper way to introduce yourself to a new dog or puppy, but its a hard thing not to do. He looked so tiny when I opened the crate, curled up against the back wall and looking at me with tired and confused little eyes. I said "Come here, baby" and he steped out and curled up in my arms. Like so many owners who experience this, I fell in love. Having been toying with a laundry list of names, one in particular just fit. And so I called him Remy, short for Rembrandt. Later this was expanded for his AKC registration and he officially became Norman G Rembrandt Van Spaceman. Norman for my grandfather, who had owned Pearl and had passed away in 2004. G for my first intial (its a bit of an AKC tradition for a dog to carry some part of its owner's name) Rembrandt for his call name, aka 'Remy', Van for a bit of flare, and Spaceman (pronounced 'spuh-che-man') as homage to the clownish nature of Bull Terriers. I had my perfect puppy.