My Turn: Our unexpected Halloween treat
An unexpected Halloween treat doesn't have to be a pumpkin. Credit: iStock
When my kids were younger, we had a family tradition to go apple picking out east. On a crisp, fall Sunday at the end of September, bundled in our sweaters, we drove out toward the North Fork.
We spent the day picking apples and buying fresh vegetables at the farm stands. We ate sugary cinnamon doughnuts with cold cider and bought decorations for Halloween. When we came home, my husband baked apple pie covered with a delicious cinnamon crumb topping.
Other Sundays we enjoyed going to visit the animals at White Post Farm in Melville, or getting sticky candy apples at Hicks Nurseries in Westbury, or taking photos among the plump pumpkins at Martin Viette Nurseries in East Norwich. I loved the fresh smell of pine cones and vanilla spice candles in the gift shops.
Six years ago, we set out for our apple-picking ritual. First, we ventured to a farm where we ate roasted corn and bought witches to decorate our garden. We climbed back in our car to go apple picking, but couldn't find the orchard. On the side of the road, my daughter noticed a tiny, white sign: "Lab Puppies for Sale."
"Look Mom," my then-9 year old screeched and pointed, "Can we go, please?" My other two children chimed in. For the past few weeks, my husband was driving his car with a cement statue of a lab on the front seat he bought at the last garden nursery in the hopes that I would break down and decide to get a dog.
"Fine, but only to look," I said. "I am not ready for our family to get a dog." My famous last words.
We called the number on the sign, and within 15 minutes we found ourselves in a backyard surrounded by the most adorable litter of puppies. My daughter picked up a fluffy, timid puppy she found crouched in the back of the barn. "How sweet, Mom. Hold him," my daughter said, handing me this ball of fur.
The dog nestled into my arms with my three kids and my husband surrounding me. The dog didn't make a peep. He just wanted to be loved. I gave him a kiss on the top of his head which left a mark and the breeder said jokingly, "You branded LIPSTICK DOG, you just bought him!"
Within in the next 45 minutes, we signed papers and got back in the car with the puppy on my lap. We didn't have dog food for him, or a leash, or collar, or even a pen. "Let's name him Joey," Katie said.
"I like Benjamin," her twin brother, Michael, piped in.
"Perfect, Joseph Benjamin, aka Joey," my husband decided.
We had stayed at the puppy farm for hours, and the dog didn't say boo. As soon as we got in the car, Joey barked and howled. He cried the entire ride home and continued to whimper through the night in the kitchen, in the pen we borrowed from our neighbor. He finally fell asleep cuddled in my arms in my bed around 5 a.m.
Six years ago on that fall day, we couldn't find apples, but we found Joey! Our lives have never been the same. Joey has been a wonderful addition to our family. He has showered us with unconditional love, joy and, of course, muddy footprints on the living room carpet. And Joey's favorite holiday is Halloween, when he gets extra treats!
Carolyn Lituchy, Roslyn Heights
