Pilar came into our lives by accident.  Heather was getting old, and we wanted to bring along a puppy both to revitalize her and to cushion the shock of her eventual death.  I don't like having a bunch of dogs at one time -- three is most I can handle!  Rocket had picked us for her very own in April 1998, and  we were very happy with our big black puppy.

Then our breeder friend asked me if I would place a couple of puppies for her.  She was having some difficulties and couldn't focus on the needs of the pups for a little while.  I had done this sort of thing before for a mutual friend so she was comfortable knowing that I would take the best care I could to place them in loving conscientious homes.  She offered to let me have one if I would place the other for her, but I held off on that offer: no way did I want another Standard Poodle in the house!

Marilynn and I met with her in Fort Collins, Colorado in July 1998 at a dog show to pick up the puppies.  On our way home, we stopped several times to make sure the babies could potty outside the crate (and to take a look at the little ones!).  They sure were cute!  I really liked the black girl; she was big but refined and really moved like a winning showdog even at the tender age of 10 weeks.  The small cream bitch was pushy and opinionated and had what I thought was overly refined looks.  To top it off, she had a hernia and her bottom teeth overlapped her top teeth in front!  I dismissed all thoughts of telling prospective owners she was a show dog when I saw that.

They settled in quickly.  The black puppy had quite a mouth on her -- had an extremely vocal opinion about everything!  She was very pretty and tall -- put her sister in the shade with her flashy movement and stunning good looks.  When a couple came to look at the puppies, I tried to sell them on the cream pup, and made sure they understood the black would be a noisy handful.  However, they fell in love with the black --even named her Scheherezade before they took her home!  So we were stuck with this funny-looking cream bitch.  I like lighter colored dogs, but really didn't want to keep her.

She had other ideas.  She sized up the "lay of the land," as it were, then charmed her way into my partner's good graces first.  Then she turned up the heat on me.  She caught on to the doggie door with only a few tries; she brought toys to me and begged me to throw them for her.  I tossed them and was charmed by the way she returned to my hand, held them till I had firm grip on them, and then immediately let go, asking for another toss.  I'd always wanted a natural retriever!  She housebroke herself in less than two weeks.  She jumped like a deer, yet never offered to go over obstacles intended to remind the dogs to stay out.  She bossed the other dogs around, but in such a way that no one fussed at her -- it was very obvious that if she stayed, she would take over Heather's place when Heather went to the Rainbow Bridge.  Yet she never pushed Heather, who dislikes puppies intensely; instead of snapping at her, the old girl actually PLAYED with her!!  She shared food and bed space with this little upstart!  She even showed her how to go out the doggie door and how to lay her head against me to solicit pets.  I still looked for a home for her, but no one wanted her.

I had some time on my hands in the late summer evenings, so I took the little cream bitch out in the front yard to see how she worked.  This 12-week old puppy, who the breeder assured me had no lead training, heeled perfectly within 10 minutes.  Using a clicker, she learned to sit in less than five minutes, and would hold it for up to thirty seconds.  I taught her "Pretty" (my word for holding a show stance) in even less time.  I was astounded!

When we  returned to the house, I told my partner what she had done.  I was holding her in my lap as I related how this Wonderdog had behaved.  She listened politely, but she had this grin on her face; finally I asked her what she was smiling about.  She told me that we might as well get used to the idea of having another dog, because this one had moved in.  I protested that I really couldn't handle another poodle's grooming requirements, that this one had this horrible undershot jaw, that the hernia was reducible (could cause problems), etc.

My partner just shook her head.  "Look at you two!  She is falling asleep in your lap, and you haven't had your hands off her all evening!  This is one of those things that was meant to be!"  That stopped me cold.  Many years ago, I had placed a male dog for another friend.  It took several months to find the right home for Jon, during which time, we bonded very closely.  When I took the money for him, I felt like I was holding thirty pieces of silver.  He trustingly let me leash him, but when I handed the lead to the new owner, he hung back and looked back at me with such dismay that I almost gave the money back!  I was strong, though; I let him go.  -- and regretted it to this day.  This situation had the same feel; I couldn't do it again.

I looked down at the sleeping puppy in my lap.  She sensed my gaze and opened one eye to look up at me -- with the same perfect trust Jon had shown.  All my good sense and resolutions flew out the doggie door and jumped the fence, never to be seen again.  I was a goner.

I told my partner she had to come up with a name.  Her third offering, "Pilar," brought the sleepy puppy to attention.  She repeated the name, and the little cream bitch trotted over to her and looked up at her.  I called, "Pilar!" and she whirled around and leapt into my lap.  Margaret laughed and told me that it was settled: not only was she "Pilar," but she knew who her best friend was too!