E-Falk.com [puppies!]

My parents came to Iowa over Easter weekend. From there, a visit to a kennel led to a deposit, which eventually led to my folks returning to Iowa three weeks later and going back to Wisconsin with two Norwegian Elkhound puppies. (Click the photos to enlarge.)

First things first... on June 5, 1990, my mom and I bought a 14-pound puppy at a now-defunct pet shop in Brookfield, Wisconsin. He was eventually named Rocky. After some initial confusion, perhaps because the pet store owners couldn't tell dog breeds apart, we figured out that he was a Norwegian Elkhound. (They said he'd grow to be 30 pounds. Ha. Try 70.) Though he had a rough childhood (since he enjoyed chewing things like wooden furniture, carpet, and electrical cords), he escaped puppyhood relatively unscathed. As he grew, he became the most endearing dog I'd ever seen; the most devoted, the most eager-to-please, the most loving, and the most loved. Rocky passed away in February 2003 after a very brief battle with cancer, but he was truly one of a kind and will be lovingly remembered forever.

	Rocky, 3/1/1990 - 2/12/2003

Mom had found the web page for Elkhound Acres, which is an excellent, world-renowned breeder of Elkhounds. As an added bonus, it's less than 30 miles from my house in Ames.
From a litter of seven, we played with several puppies who were, at the time, four and a half weeks old (having been born March 18, 2003). Pups that age don't really "play", per se... they more walk around, bump into things, and go to sleep in random places.

	Over graduation weekend, three weeks, later, the pups were finally old enough to strike out on their own. We picked them up and brought them back to my house. The boys were a little tuckered out... it had been an exciting morning.
	This one, which had picked Mom out on our first visit to the kennels, had already been named shortly after their first meeting. This is Great Wolf of Thor. (Keep in mind, they're Norwegian.)
	Wolf was still sleeping, but his brother Dag squeezed into this shot.
	Dag and I made friends early.
	Ditto.
	Alas, they couldn't stay in Ames for long. This is when Mom, Dad, and Grandma found out that Wolf rides well and Dag doesn't. (Actually, this is more like Dag having a six-hour-long fit and Wolf passing for narcoleptic.)
Tiny puppies!
Very early, Dag took to sleeping on his back like Rocky did.
The Viking Horde, as they came to be known, discover the wonder and joy of slippers.
Wolf enjoys a decisive victory!
On the subject of war against footwear, Wolf munches on Mom's shoelaces while Dag mugs for the camera.
	Two weeks later, I was back in Milwaukee. Though you wouldn't believe it, these guys do occasionally sleep.
	Though, Dag knows "go to bed" doesn't have to mean "go to sleep".
	Wolf with a classic Wolf expression on his face.
	Dag isn't a particular fan of holding still, though Wolf was pleased to look quizzically at the tennis ball.
	The pups got to go for a ride in the bike trailer. As you probably could have guessed, Wolf was perfectly pleased to be there, and Dag attempted to eat/dig his way out.

Fast forward to January 2004. I couldn't weigh the pups last time I was home-- I couldn't weigh myself last time I was home, 'cause of the ankle-- but they have grown. Here's a closeup of Wolf, being encouraged to hold still for the camera.
The flash is bright, isn't it, Wolfer?
Wolf very alertly keeps his eyes and ears on the camera.
Dag sure is handsome, and not only because he really looks a lot like Rocky in this shot.
Scroll up to the "...while Dag mugs for the camera" photo. Same expression. SAME expression.
Dag's internal monologue: "What is she holding? I bet I could eat that. I bet it would taste good, or at least get me some attention, if I ate that."