FROM AN OLD FRIEND
Scooby's brother has come back for a visit.
He was first Scrappy, then Max, and now he has a forever home where he is called Winston, but I'm afraid he'll always be "Scrappy" to me.
I can't remember exactly when he was adopted, but I recently had a note from Ashley asking if we'd be willing to babysit for him for a weekend. His new mom was uncomfortable leaving him with a dog sitter that he didn't kow because he's still a bit skittish. She thought if someone familiar took care of him she would be much more relaxed about going away.
Of course I said yes. I love the little guy and I thought Scooby would enjoy a reunion with his brother.
We had a bit of musical dogs; Freddie went back to his own foster home and the next morning, Scrappy came back. The two puppies greeted each other like...well, like long lost brothers. The mom had been concerned that he would be intimidated by the other dogs, but the four of them were chasing each other around the house instantly.
She told me he's a very fussy eater and that she had brought (human) baby food meat. She said she often had resorted to hand-feeding him bits of chicken to make sure he ate.
She also said that he's getting better and better, but he still is very skitish when she tries to touch his hindquarters, but that he was more comfortable having her touch the front part of his body.
She left contact information (personal and vet) and said she would pick him up on Monday morning.
It was really fun watching the puppies play again.
They chased each other -- and Lizzie -- through the house and into the yard and back again until they finally collapsed.
When I sat down in the recliner, Scrappy leaped up in my lap and started licking me and rolling over on his back, and finally settling himself on the arm of the chair, with me scratching his hindquarters. I had never noticed any reluctance to be touched there before, or now.
At mealtime, I took out the food that his mom had bought and I fixed up a special bowl for him, with the special puppy kibble she bought and the baby beef and for the other dogs, their usual Costco brand canned food mixed with some kibble.
Then I put the bowls down where they always were when Scrappy lived here--Scooby's bowl by the dishwasher, Lizzie's by the water bottle, Sheila's by the back door, and Scrappy's in the dog cage, where he always felt more protected.
Then the "musical food bowl" game that goes on around here every mealtime started.
Ultimately, Scooby ate Scrappy's special food, Scrappy ate Lizzie's, Lizzie ate Scooby's and Sheila ate her own and waited around for leftovers from the others. There was no problem with getting Scrappy to eat regular dog food.
But I'm not going to tell Scrappy's mom that. It's nice to think that he has somebody who loves him so much that she will hand feed him chicken just to make sure that he eats.
Scrappy will go back home on Monday morning and then later in the week Freddie will be back again as well.
It's musical dog season!
PHOTO OF THE DAY
MILES TO NOWHERE: 64.5 miles