Gussie's Origin Story and How Not to Transport a Puppy

ericamargaret5
Sep 15
5 min read

Updated: Sep 17

When I walked into the Cincinnati PetSmart at 11:15 a.m. for my 11:30 a.m puppy pick-up appointment, I heard a puppy screammming and I mean SCREAMING at the top of their lungs. I remember thing "that puppy is having big feelings this morning," and went on my way to find some of the equipment I would need to get my, presumably quiet, puppy home. I got kibble, wee wee pads, snacks and a small water bowl. I already had a pouch and a small car bed for the 8 hour drive that my new puppy and I had ahead of us. That's right. You read the correctly. 8 hours.

I had driven 8 hours from northern Virginia the day before to pick up a rescue puppy that I was now going to turn around and drive 8 hours home. I had had puppy fever since June and had been applying, like the rest of the world, non stop for puppies. I had not heard back from anyone until September, when the run on the rescues finally slowed down. I was looking specifically for an Australian Cattle Dog or an Australian Shepherd because I had read that they are capable of handling high amounts of exercise and heat and I was hoping to find myself a running buddy. (Porter, as this point, had unequivocally declared his hatred for running and I was on my own.)

As school started, and I stared down another few depressing months of virtual teaching, my husband finally relented and said I could get my puppy. (I should mention at this point that he ALSO was on a puppy waiting list for a golden retriever/lab mix that looked like our old dog. That list was long and I honestly thought it was going to be a few years before his puppy arrived. I was wrong, but more on that later.) I knew I was not going to make it through my isolating daily day as a virtual teacher without something really cute, fuzzy, and mind-consuming to make it better. FINALLY, after a bunch of ignored applications, I got a response from Louie's Legacy Animal Rescue in Cincinnati, calling to tell me I could have this Australian Cattle dog puppy if I was able to get up here on Saturday and pick her up from the adoption fair at Petsmart. I would be there.

I drove up to Ohio the minute I logged off on Friday, stayed with a nice lady in an Airbnb, and stayed up half the night looking at the newborn pictures of Gussie from the foster mom.

Then I spent some time looking at the 2-3 week old pictures of Gussie from the foster mom. If wasn't already primed for getting this puppy, I definitely was now!

Obviously, I was at the Petsmart before my appointment time, but because I didn't want to be rude, I made sure not to go hover near the rescue people until my allotted time and went to look for a crate and some other essentials instead. And man oh man while I was walking around, I could hear some puppy hollering the entire time. "What a racket that puppy is making," I thought to myself.

Finally the clocked ticked 11:30 and I sprinted over to the rescue to claim my ball of fluff. The rescue people saw that I was sweaty and breathing hard and knew immediately that I was one of the adoptive fur parents on the last leg of their puppy fever patience. It took all of two seconds for them to stuff Gussie in my arms, where the rescuers looked RELIEVED to have handed her over, and I wondered what that was all about. They cooed about how QUIET and happy she seemed with me. I didn't think anything of it because she was fucking cute and I wanted to go home. I sent a few pictures to my husband, signed the paper work and off we went.

Me holding Gussie for the first time. — Me holding Gussie for the first time

The week leading up to me picking up Gussie, I had brainstormed ways to transport home. I really wasn't sure what to do. I had grand fantasies of putting her in a baby pouch and having her strapped to me, sleeping and cuddling, as we drove 8 hours home. If I needed a break from that, I had set up a little bed/box thing that she could sleep in on the passenger seat.

This was the basic setup I had planned for Gussie's transport:

So now, on our way out to the car to drive back to NOVA, I let her go potty on a potty pad, put on my mommy pouch, put her in it, and got in the car to drive home. I started up the car and I'll tell you, she started SCREAMING....SCREAMING. She was 10 pounds of screaming, yodeling fluff trying to wiggle out of her safety pouch while I was trying to drive. Ut oh.

Gussie sitting in her seat basket — Gussie getting ready for her big drive back to NOVA. She did not stay in this thing for one damn second after this picture.

Figuring she would calm down and fall asleep eventually, I just kept going, pulling out and navigating my way towards the highway. When it became clear 30 minutes later that she was neither going to stop screeching nor stop wiggling, nor fall asleep, I took her out of the pouch and put her in the tiny box bed I had made her on the passage seat.

When she jumped out of that (still scream barking), I grabbed her and tried to put her back into the pouch for safe keeping. When I realized that this set up was in no way going to be sustainable for the 8 hour drive ahead of me, I Googled the closest PetSmart, drove straight there, put Gussie back in my body pouch, went in and bought the proper transport crate that I should have bought in the first place (but didn't think of because I thought we were going to be snuggling goddamnit), set it up, and placed her in there. Now, at least, I knew I would get her home in one piece, and the only thing I had to deal with was her wide vocal range.

Five hours later, when she was still screeching and I was at my wits end, I hit the gas on the 4Runner because I needed to get this little hellion home and get her to stop crying. I start flying. In fact, I'm flying so fast a state trooper pulled me right over. In this moment, I was thinking "at least he will hear the hollering puppy and understand," but-OF COURSE-Gussie didn't make a single peep as he approached the car to ask what was going on. Not. a. single. peep. What a traitor. I'm assuming the trooper observed that my braid that was no longer a braid-just hair standing straight in every direction- and maybe he observed the puppy toys and the pack of open puppy wee wee pads, and puppy equipment strewn throughout the car, and maybe gave me some grace, but I still got a whopping ticket.

Taking my well deserved ticket and getting back onto the highway (at the speed limit), we FINALLY made it home, where Gussie promptly peed on my husband. He was upset, and I was just happy that we both made it back in one piece.

I got her inside and put her in the puppy playpen we had set up and sent her foster mom some pictures to verify that I indeed was (barely) capable of getting the puppy home, and that we were all safe and well.