Miró is two years old today. He was one of a litter of twelve I dubbed the Dirty Dozen. Almost ten weeks after his birthday I went to Ohio to fetch him home on my birthday. What could be a better gift to oneself? At the time he weighted about 12 lbs. He barely fit into the carrier I'd brought--one more day and he would have been too big to fly in the airplane cabin. As it was, he spent most of the flight sleeping on my lap. He was merely resting up for nonstop movement from that time on, interrupted by occasional naps.
He's from the Airecraft kennel. During the flight I wondered what kennel name to give him. Six months before, both my previous Airedales had died within a few weeks of each other. (Keeper and The So-Perfect Darwin.) Four months before, calm and sweet-tempered Alanis had come to live with me. With the addition of Miró, I would have the right number of Airedales again. The name fell into place: Airecraft Carries Me Home.
Tonight we're going to a doggie get-together for some canine freestyle training. The treats are ready to go. The dog is always ready to go.