Like many people during the pandemic, my parents, Stan and Pat Smith, decided to get another dog. They lost their 14-year-old, Millie, 6 months earlier. They had three criteria. Stan wanted a puppy. Pat wanted one small enough to fit under the seat on an airplane in a carrier and one that didn’t shed.
Mom found three puppies that would be big enough to adopt by April 20. Since April 20 was Stan’s birthday, she picked me out of the litter when I was 3 weeks old and agreed to pick me up on April 20. She planned to surprise my dad; however, she got cold feet and told him. He was thrilled, but she didn’t let him meet me until his birthday.
Mom and Dad tell me they named me Ava (“Let’s AVA nother”) because they were sitting on the patio with a cocktail when they decided to get another dog and have another cocktail!