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like bringing a new baby home. She was going to be an interloper, an intruder, and being so young and tiny, she was going to get all the attention for a while. Ugh. I felt like a beast. Worse yet, this wasn’t an ordinary-size puppy I could introduce to my other dogs. True confessions: I have four miniature Brussels griffs. Gracie is very much a lady, gentle to the core, and I knew she would cause no harm even to a one-pound puppy. One pound? I have shoes that are bigger and weigh more than that. A Big Mac is bigger than that. Which is also why I had never wanted such a tiny dog. I literally had nightmares, imagining her slipping into some tiny space on the airplane when we traveled, or getting stuck under my bed at home. She was soooo small!!!
    And while I trusted Gracie with her, I didn’t trust my otherdogs. Ruby, the youngest, is bigger than Gracie and exuberant, and loves to swat things. One fast-moving paw, even in play, could have broken Minnie’s back. It was definitely more like having a mouse than a dog! And my two other griffs, Meg and Hope, were older and crankier and were not likely to take kindly to her, and I was not willing to take that risk. So Minnie would have to be separate from the other dogs, which took some planning and organizing as to who would be where when. Minnie had to be protected from the other dogs.
    I was also worried about people stepping on her, and the solution I came up with was a baby playpen to keep her in, to keep her safe. Now she is full grown at two pounds, and she runs around freely, but whenever I want to keep her safe if there are too many people around (like a Sunday-night casual dinner party in my Paris kitchen), I put her in the playpen, and she’s happy there. The vet had also warned me that I couldn’t sleep with her—I could roll over on her and kill her, or she could fall off the bed—so I still put her in the playpen to sleep at night. It is a perfect place to keep her safe. I cuddle with her before I go to sleep, but then I place her in her bed in the playpen. I wish I could put her in bed with me, she’s so cozy, but I just can’t. (Gracie spends the night on my bed, and sometimes Ruby too, hopping on and off occasionally.) A dog as tiny as Minnie is a big responsibility.

    Hope, one of my current Brussels griffs

Cassio Alves

    Meg, also one of my current Brussels griffs

Cassio Alves
    I got the puppy food she needed, the bowls I’d picked out in New York arrived, the igloo beds, and Wee-Wee Pads to train her where to go (she learned on the first day and makes no mistakes). I had collars and leashes, and a few toys. I bought all kinds of squeaky toys, tiny sweaters, little pink blankets (okay, I’ll confess: a tiny wool hat with holes for her ears, which she hates and won’t wear), and I got ready to spoil her totally. So sue me, I was excited that she was coming home. There are worse indulgences than spoiling a dog. It’s not a crime, and I had so much fun getting ready for her.
    As promised, my daughter Victoria took her home in New York, a week before they came home for Thanksgiving, so Minnie got a taste of being loved and spoiled before she got to me. And Victoria also has a Chihuahua, Tallulah, who I don’t think was too pleased by Minnie’s visit.
    And then the big day arrived, the day before Thanksgiving, my kids came home and two of my daughters flew home with Minnie. They said she had slept the whole way on the trip. We took her out of her carrying bag and introduced her to her new world, my bedroom, the playpen, and at first the only place she was happy was the playpen. She was terrified when I put her on my bedroom carpet, and she only ventured a few inches from the playpen and was happy whenever we put her back into her safe, contained little world. Everything musthave looked huge to her. Now she runs around my room, my office, the Paris apartment, and everywhere else like a maniac. Now this is her domain. But at first she was scared to death,