Meet the New Boss

About 2 weeks ago, I got a call from the High Desert Humane Society telling me that Indy’s ashes were ready to be picked up. I called Carmon to tell her I was heading there to get them. Bless her heart, she asked me if I wanted or needed company. She accompanied me when we took Indy’s body to be cremated. I said no – I could handle this just fine. The staff at the shelter is wonderful. When I went in to get the little container of ashes, I smiled and thanked them all for their kindness. And I looked down at the small tin with Indy’s remains and remarked that he’d lost a lot of weight. The staff looked stricken for a moment, and then realized I was making a joke. It’s an Irish thing I think. To joke when you don’t want to cry. Or you can drink. But it was too early in the day for that.

I told the staff that I was going to adopt another dog (dog – not puppy), but didn’t know exactly when. I made sure my new lease allowed both a dog and a cat. Since I was there, I figured I would take a look to see what they had up for adoption. Just to get an idea…

The dogs were indoors that day because it was already 100 degrees outside. I went through the interior kennel door and was met with a chorus of barks and howls. Except from the very young dog behind gate number 3. He was silent. He stood up on his hind legs and pressed his chest against the chain link and just looked me right in the eye. Game over.

I walked him a bit outside. He was great on a leash. I took him into the cat room to see what his reaction would be to the cats kenneled there. He ignored them. Pass and pass. I called Carmon and told her where I was. She asked if I needed her. I said yes, but not for the reason she was thinking (to offer solace and comfort). I told her about this young dog that wanted to adopt me. She laughed, and said she’d be there in 10 minutes to give a second opinion. Well she liked him too. Done and done.

I signed the paperwork, paid the fee, and said I’d be back on Friday morning to pick him up after he got neutered. And I remembered to bring Indy’s ashes home with me.

That night I got a bit uneasy. I had never had a puppy before. Even though he was in with the adult population, he could not have been more than 5-7 months old. He was listed as a beagle/pug mix, but he was already 32 lbs, and still growing. The joke in town is that every dog is part Pit Bull and part Heeler. My best guess is that he’s part Lab (very webbed toes like you see in water dogs), part Boxer, part adorable. Some people think Great Dane, but I don’t think so. I expect he’ll size out to 45-50 lbs, but friends are betting it could be 60.

In preparation, I got a baby gate, a crate, a gallon of Nature’s Miracle, some chew toys, and I rolled up the big area rugs. I figured it would be easier to clean any accidents on the wood floors. I explained to Pheenie that she would be sharing the bed again. She ignored me.

I brought Seamus home Friday morning, and he almost immediately peed in the house. But it took him less than a few hours to figure out that he was to go outdoors to do his business. He learned that Pheenie is not a chew toy, and she has claws and if he plays nice, she is very sweet. He learned that the car is not a terrifying thing and that it means we are going hiking with friends. 

 

He learned that you can slide a really long way on wood floors and the pole in the middle of the living room does not move when you hit it.

I learned that it is impossible to wear white with a dusty rambunctious dog, that I can’t leave my shoes unattended, (or any article of clothing for that matter), and that having friends with an evenly matched dog (in this case Daisy!) is a real bonus. Because you can only play fetch, tug of war, and roll in the grass for so long with a young energetic pup.

Now isn’t that all a beautiful thing?

All I can say is: Lucky Dog, Lucky Me.