Saturday, September 10
Happy 7 months with us, pooch!
Lame sauce as it may be, but I like to mentally remember how long we've been
almost loyal owners to this rescue canine that drools more than Teri Schiavo. People do it with their can-be-ugly babies, why can't I with my definitely-can-be-ugly dog?? And this past week marked 7 months of dog ownership for this almost former cat person. From only wanting to scoop liter boxes and have bell'd cat collars, I'm now capable of wiping facial folds, cleaning ears, bathing, picking up poop, and lugging the 50-pound bag of over-priced dog food home from Petco (it's where the pets and Wookiees go).
She's adjusting well here. Okay, well almost. Minus needing you to hold her paw while she pees, she is completely content with having free range to the yard. And as you can see, she tried to get into every photo from the first part of the tour. I expect Accidental Olympian/Alaskan to want to smoosh this face too - she's a dog person, she gets it.
Yesterday she did her best attempt at aggression yet. I was expecting the UPS delivery guy at anytime. So when I heard the barking galore, I expected someone to be at the gate quivering in fear. Yup. Guard dog. Finally. At least when it counts. She doesn't bark when Mr. Wookie comes home from night flights, but at least she recognized that it was a stranger at the property and worth vocal use. It's also worth mentioned the delivery guy was black. And for some reason, she's got issues with tan/black/not pale people. Where's Cesar Luther King when you need him? She's not yet evolved past the Civil Rights...oi ve...and this behavior coming from Wookie & Co. being independent voters, who don't mind gay marriage, who think having 19 kids and counting is kosher, who eat organic salads with their greasy pizzas, and don't mind owning guns. We're accepting of just-about-everyone. Umm...minus Zuckerburg. That guy just looks like a douche.