TODAY's QUOTE
You can say any foolish thing to a dog, and the dog will give you a look
that says, 'My God, you're right! I never would've thought of that!'
~ Dave Barry
Yesterday's Entries
2000: My Buddy
2001: Step by Step
2002: Shoes
and All
2003: The
Spawn of Satan
TODAY's FOOD
Breakfast: Cheerios with
Strawberries
Lunch: Swiss cheese on a no-carb tortilla
Dinner: Shrimp with pasta
CURRENTLY READING
The Elegant Gathering
of White Snows
by Kris Radish
TODAY's DVD
Shattered Glass
NEW CALENDAR!!
|
DAY ONE
5 June 2004
 Now I promise that this is not going to turn into a journal about
dogs, but since I’ve been waiting to get this dog for such a long time, it seems that
a "how are we settling in" entry is in order.
Sheila has adapted extremely well in a short time. Or maybe she’s being on her
best behavior. Her former owner was homeless and the way it was described to us, he was
"picked up with a bunch of other people and when it became obvious he couldn’t
come back for her, she was turned over to the SPCA." I assume this means he’s in
jail. I feel sad that he has to give up his dog, but glad for us. She was obviously well
taken care of, though hadn’t been spayed and, in fact, after she was given to the
SPCA, she had one puppy (only one), which had to be hand-raised because she didn’t
produce enough milk.
That said, she’s ours now and it took her all of about 15 seconds to master the
dog door. A good sign. She very much wants to play with Kimba, but Kimba doesn’t know
she’s a dog and has never been into "playing" with any dog. She’s also
a grumpy old lady now and growls whenever Sheila tries to crouch down to play with her.
Within short order, it was plainly evident that size is not the determining factor in
"top dog status." Kimba would make a nice appetizer for Sheila, and yet Sheila
was afraid to come down the stairs this morning because Kimba was sleeping on the landing.
Last night, Walt asked what would happen with Sheila when bedtime came around and I told him
she’d sleep with me.
I wanted a dog so desperately when I was growing up, but we couldn’t have one
because of my sister’s allergies, so it wasn’t until Jeri was born and I was
pregnant with Ned and we had moved to a rental house that we were finally able to go out
looking for a dog. Mutt wasn’t my ideal dog, but he was the only one available at the
pound and after waiting nearly 25 years, I wasn’t willing to wait another day. We
brought him home.
Walt, who grew up with dogs and who was raised with the notion that dogs were outdoor
creatures, or at the very least, had their own space and didn’t intrude on your
bedroom, quickly squelched the notion that we invite Mutt into our bedroom. This was
probably a wise decision, in retrospect, given that we frequently had a bed so full of
children that one or the other--or both--of us ended up sleeping on the floor. We had no
room for a dog too. None of our dogs has ever been invited into the master bedroom.
When I started having back problems, and being unable to get out of bed in the morning
without great pain, I discovered that if I slept in the reclining chair downstairs, I had
no back problems, so for years, the recliner became my bed and when Benjy came into our
lives, he assumed he was a lap dog (though he was much too big) and when I slept at night,
he would sleep in my lap. I loved having that time with him.
But Benjy died of cancer, Toby died of old age, and that has left us only with Kimba,
who long ago learned that you do not so much as step on the rug of the bedroom. In her
later years, she has started sleeping on the stairs at night.
After my accident (which happened almost exactly a year ago--can you believe it?) the
angle of the arm of the chair wasn’t really comfortable, but I could manage to get
myself into a good position in the bed in the guest bedroom, the bed which was once my
parents’ and then was passed down to Jeri, who couldn’t move it to Boston with
her. The mattress, which my mother tells me must be about 50 years old, is somehow better
for my back too, and so I now sleep in the guest bedroom, which means that I could invite
Sheila to come into the bedroom with me.
I wondered if she would have to be coaxed up onto the bed but she took one look at it
and with a flying leap landed smack dab in the middle of the bed and settled in for the
duration. There really is room in the bed for me and a dog, but not if the dog wants to
sleep in the middle of the bed!
We managed to work that out, but then she decided that bedtime was playtime and she
wanted to grab my hand and have me wrestle with her, but I decided we weren’t going
to start that game, so I ignored her mostly, except for petting her. When she discovered I
wasn’t going to play that game, she fell asleep and slept until I got up at 5:30 this
morning. It was great. There is something bonding about actually allowing the dog to be
part of your "pack."
This morning I tossed some toys for her in the back yard, so she could chase them,
because they told me she loved to chase toys, but she didn’t seem too interested,
though she has brought them all inside and seems to have chosen the living room as her
play room.
My friend Barb stopped by to go for a walk and we took Sheila with us. It will be
better when she learns her new name and has a sense of being bonded to me because I can
then feel more comfortable taking her to places where she can be off leash. She really
needs to run with other dogs, but for now she has to stick on a leash with me and we
walked for an hour and a half to two hours. She was totally exhausted when we came home
and after drinking her fill of water (must bring a water bottle for her next time), she
passed out behind my desk chair.
It’s a promising first day. I really like this dog and think that even though she
is a tad larger than Walt wanted and a bit younger than I wanted, she’s going to work
out very well. |
