Ah! Bouvier de Flandres.
I had a deep burning desire to get a pup. That particular day, I was looking at the Dog Breeds picture album. “Hrmm…. This hound’s not suitable, this one’s plain ugly; I like huskies, but…..Wow.” I saw the ultimate pet. My heart melted at the sight of a Bouvier puppy, so cute you can die for. There. It  was the dog of my flamboyant  dreams. I could just imagine myself showing off to awestruck classmates.

Bookmarking the page I pulled out a laptop and typed a search, “Bouvier puppies.” Out came several videos of these lovely canines.

“Ah! Bouvier de Flandres!” my aunt had snuck up on me. “By the way, I have a very embarrassing situation with a Bouvier pup.” I looked up and settled down to listen.

“I was in my late twenties” started my aunt, “my family lived in Boston, right in town. At that time Bouviers were great novelty. Being a European breed, it was almost extinct during World War II.

That day our family was expecting a guest of honour, who was fond of spirits. I was sent on a double mission: to a wine store, and to walk a pup. The Bouvier was three months old and I didn’t dare to tie him outside. There were few customers and a puppy, whom I was holding in my arms, drew immediate attention. He was paid so many compliments!

Being swamped by questions, I was sure I would never be able to finish picking out the drinks needed, though the pride for my cute, “teddy bear” like pet was very flattering.

When the majority of fascinated ‘oohs and ahhs’ was paid out, I turned to the shelves when…. I suddenly felt something was obstructing my legs and grounded my feet onto the floor. Looking down, I saw a terrible, TERRIBLE thing.

The fidgeting pup had broke off the button on my skirt and it had fell onto the floor”.

I chuckled. I couldn’t imagine my proper solemn auntie in stockings and panties in front of all these people. She chuckled too and continued. “I felt getting hot as a teapot as red as a beet. Luckily, I was wearing a slip, but the shame and mortification was the same as if I hadn’t. Dropping the yelping and whining dog onto the floor, I tried to retrieve my skirt. The damn pup grabbed the cloth and was happily pulling it away. Finally, I prevailed in our wrestling match, grabbed the skirt, and the pup, and looked up ready to join in laughter with the spectators. To my greater embarrassment everybody pretended to be absorbed in what they were doing.

Or they really were? Maybe, they just wanted to make me feel better. But I would have been less ashamed if they had just laughed at me with me. I quickly paid for my merchandise and zoomed out of the store both bewildered and bursting with hysterical hiccups.”

We both laughed heartily. “So Bouviers are troublemakers?!” I asked while my aunt was wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Oh, yes. When that dog grew up, he was a nightmare.”

I was shaking my head in bitter disappointment. Oh, no. Every pretty little puppy is so much trouble! Maybe I am OK with a toy stuffed dog. “But then, again, a Vizsla is pretty too; look! Look at the Whippet’s picture ……..”