Back in February, my cousin brought her boss's Havanese puppy to visit in North Carolina--along with her three well-behaved, very beautiful Doberman pinschers. I fell in love with Beau, the Havanese, as I watched him shepherd the Dobies and my parents' elderly and wandering Heinz 57 up and down the beech. When the dogs slept on the couches, he poked them in the snout with his wet little nose as if to say, "Let's go, dogs. Time for the beach!" I fell in love.
Also, he thoroughly enjoyed the ocean and could keep up with the big guys.
So I told my cousin if she came across a Havanese to let me know. In April, she did just that. Enter Queen Maeve onto our family landscape:
My cousin picked her up from the breeder for me and has been taking care of her until I can pick her up next month. I named her for Queen Maeve of Connacht, a mighty warrior with a considerable place in Irish mythology. Her story is long and complicated (the way stories usually are in mythology), but the bottom line is that you don't mess with Maeve and Maeve ain't afraid.
She's so tiny (3.5 lbs.) that she fits through the garden fence without any problem. But tiny is not the same as fearful. Not at all. This little three-pounder runs with the big guys already. And when they get on her nerves, she plays dead. Check this out:
