Greetings, salutations!
This is a very quick update just in case anyone is wondering where I've gotten to, which you likely aren't, but just in case? Here we go:
For the past week I was working on outfitting our home for our newest addition, our new dog, named Puddles. She came with that name, and I think I'm going to go ahead and keep it.
Puddles is a mixed breed, nine month old puppy, who is on her second (and final) rescue home. Initially she was left in a field in New Mexico, in a box with her litter mates. A rough start to a life, you will agree. However, it got better from there. She was found, and turned over to a rescue society. Puddles first placement was one of those misfires the universe sometimes brings about. Although her first people were good, and loving, they didn't have much experience with dogs. That combined with some personal strife led to the need for Puddles to find a new home.
Two weeks ago, my husband was looking at rescue sites, allegedly to see what a Bull Terrier looked like. I say allegedly because he had just been to a local business that was hosting the Bull Terrier rescue group, so I'm guessing he would have recognized one on sight, but I digress, as is my way.
So in his quest for Bull Terriers, he very accidentally stumbled across two Scottish Terriers available for adoption. Two Scotties, a Blue Heeler, an English Bulldog, and a Westie, as it happens. Accidents are funny that way. Particularly when you are entering "Scottish Terrier" into the search engine when allegedly looking for Bull Terriers. Less of an accident, more of a plot, I'd say, but what do I know?
You may recall that I have just had my carpets entirely replaced. Contrarian that he is, this seemed to put Rob on the path to dogdom once more. Contrarian that I am, I married that stubborn cuss because we are rather similar.
Rob emailed me this varied list of dogs, just in case I wanted to see them. He was doing so from the great distance of exactly one story of stairs over my head. When he returned from his home office Bull Terrier quest, he asked about the dogs he had seen. Had I opened my email yet? Oh, and there was a dog with the inauspicious name of Puddles, up for adoption.
An hour later, the name Puddles kept popping into my head, and I finally just went and looked for her myself.
And the rest, as they say, is rather predictable. On Sunday, after completing our adoption paperwork, home visit and interview, we went to pick up Puddles who is purported to be a Scottish Terrier/Basset Hound mix. Somewhere in her lineage there may have been a basset, and there certainly was some sort of terrier, but mostly Puddles is a dog with many ingredients in her genetic makeup.
She has separation anxiety issues that are already starting to show improvement. Part of what happened with Puddles is that her people were on their first ever dog, and didn't realize Puddles would need some good routines to rely upon. All of her routines tended to be negative, and reinforced fears of abandonment. She's learned about walks, toys, having her teeth brushed (there is an exceptionally long story to go with that, but I'll spare you) and some other "It's good to be a dog" type of things.
This isn't about to turn into the Days of My Dog Blog, but you may not have seen me in your comment sections lately. I'll be back, in all my wordiness, but for right now I'm establishing my pack leadership. You will be relieved to know this does not actually involve my having to pee on anything.
As for the carpets, I purchased a steam cleaner, just in case Puddles lived up to her name.
Everyone take care, and I will see you around soon!
