Don't stress. Ginger the new dog is fine.
I mean I think she's fine.
She's HERE. That should mean she's fine.
But, you may remember, not too long ago I blogged about how she disappeared and I did about sixty-thousand things to get her back and lo and behold! Somebody brought her back. YAY!
So awesome. The internet works.
Thank God.
I didn't take any of the stuff down I put up--I wasn't sure what to do with it. Lucky me, it seems I'd need to use it again. And again. And again.
Remember when we found her, and we were like, "Oh, who would want to leave such a precious dog to wander the streets alone!"
Turns out nobody left her to wander the streets--she LEFT, and wandered the streets because she has no sense of direction and can't get home.
*headdesk*
Mate has shored up the weak places in the fence four times. We're implementing new protocols, including stuffing pillows in the pet door whenever I go anywhere.
And I think--THINK mind you, that besides leaving one perfectly sized grumpy-poop in Squish's room every day--she is also systematically chewing perfectly round holes in ours and ZoomBoy's blankets.
*sigh*
And she loves going for walkies. Personally I think it's because she's trying to kill me, but I'll let you be the judge.
Anyway...
There was a moment this morning, as Mate opened the front door to greet the newest person going, "Hey, is this your dog? I saw your wife's post on FaceBook!" (Four people. FOUR PEOPLE--all different--have returned the dog!) when they were like, "How can we be sure this dog is yours? We checked the chip out--it didn't give us an address. And what's with this harness--it looks like it came from a cat?"
Mate was like, "Yeah, we don't know what's up with the chip either. It IS a cat's harness--it's all that fits. And as for the dog--"
At that moment, the dog leapt into his arms and placed her chin on his shoulder, cuddling in a way she hadn't been cuddling with the people dropping her off.
"Oh." They said.
"She has no respect for personal space," he told them.
"No respect for YOUR personal space," they said.
And then he brought her inside, where she proceeded to stick her face up my nose in greeting.
Yeah. We could easily fall in love with this dog. It would be great if the little Houdini would stick around.
As for the other dogs?
As long as I feed them first, they're willing to concede she exists.
Dogs are weird.
I adore them so.
I mean I think she's fine.
She's HERE. That should mean she's fine.
But, you may remember, not too long ago I blogged about how she disappeared and I did about sixty-thousand things to get her back and lo and behold! Somebody brought her back. YAY!
So awesome. The internet works.
Thank God.
I didn't take any of the stuff down I put up--I wasn't sure what to do with it. Lucky me, it seems I'd need to use it again. And again. And again.
Remember when we found her, and we were like, "Oh, who would want to leave such a precious dog to wander the streets alone!"
Turns out nobody left her to wander the streets--she LEFT, and wandered the streets because she has no sense of direction and can't get home.
*headdesk*
Mate has shored up the weak places in the fence four times. We're implementing new protocols, including stuffing pillows in the pet door whenever I go anywhere.
And I think--THINK mind you, that besides leaving one perfectly sized grumpy-poop in Squish's room every day--she is also systematically chewing perfectly round holes in ours and ZoomBoy's blankets.
*sigh*
And she loves going for walkies. Personally I think it's because she's trying to kill me, but I'll let you be the judge.
Anyway...
There was a moment this morning, as Mate opened the front door to greet the newest person going, "Hey, is this your dog? I saw your wife's post on FaceBook!" (Four people. FOUR PEOPLE--all different--have returned the dog!) when they were like, "How can we be sure this dog is yours? We checked the chip out--it didn't give us an address. And what's with this harness--it looks like it came from a cat?"
Mate was like, "Yeah, we don't know what's up with the chip either. It IS a cat's harness--it's all that fits. And as for the dog--"
At that moment, the dog leapt into his arms and placed her chin on his shoulder, cuddling in a way she hadn't been cuddling with the people dropping her off.
"Oh." They said.
"She has no respect for personal space," he told them.
"No respect for YOUR personal space," they said.
And then he brought her inside, where she proceeded to stick her face up my nose in greeting.
Yeah. We could easily fall in love with this dog. It would be great if the little Houdini would stick around.
As for the other dogs?
As long as I feed them first, they're willing to concede she exists.
Dogs are weird.
I adore them so.
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