Many memorists think their own lives are fascinating. However, after writing 2 1/3 memoirs (The Compassionate Carnivore counts as 1/3, in my mind), I still think my life is not fascinating. So it’s hard to write about it….luckily, writing about dogs is easy.
After a month without little Teddy, we adopted a new dog. Lucy was rescued from a high-kill shelter somewhere in the US by Midwest Animal Rescue Services and driven to Minneapolis to live temporarily with a foster family.
We found her listed on petfinder.com, a dangerous place to go because so many great pets need homes. We fell in love with this face:
She’s big—half-St. Bernard, possibly half-Great Dane. Melissa put a coin in Lucy’s pawprint. If you look closely, you’ll see it’s a quarter, not a dime! Big feet.
The shelter thinks she might be 18 months, which is still a puppy. And she acts like it. When she runs, she flails around as if her legs are about to come off! She loves to run in the backyard, huge loping strides.
No one knows what her life was like before coming here, but she’s very underweight—ribs and backbone showing, muscles underdeveloped. We think she weighs 80 pounds… not sure how large she will get. Yikes, what were we thinking?
Unfortunately, Molly (griffon on the right above) really dislikes Lucy. Growls and snaps. Molly has been cranky the entire two weeks Lucy has been here. If anyone has any suggestions on how to make this better, we’re open to ideas. Lucy is pretty laid back around her, but gets excited outside. She gets ugly when around food, so we’re keeping that under control.
And the best part? We’ve hated our vacuum cleaner for years because it doesn’t pick up the dog hair, but we just couldn’t justify spending the money. Turns out Lucy sheds like CRAZY. So—yippityskippity—we bought a new vacuum, a special Cat and Dog vacuum. And it does a GREAT job.
Incorporating a new dog is a time of adjustment and training: “No, you can’t get up on the bed. No, you can’t hold my hand with your mouth. No, you can’t put your paws on our shoulders.” But she’s learning (especially when treats are involved.) Our first command is always Battlestations, which means “Get your butt out of the kitchen so I can cook without tripping over you!”
So we’re back to being a two-dog family. And once we get Lucy trained, and Molly relaxes, life will return to normal. Normal is good. Our only problem will be fighting over who gets to vacuum, but Melissa and I will work that out.