Oct 02 2009
My Puppy
Can you spot the puppy?
Well, not really my puppy.
Megan and her partner in pit bulls, Monica, are time sharing “my” puppy, who can be seen here. Megan takes her from Thursday to Sunday, and Monica has her the rest of the week, when Megan is working those twelve hour night shifts and sleeping in the daytime like a vampire. So fashionable!
During the next couple of months, M&M will socialize and train the puppy. She will also get used to other dogs, since both Ms have them, and go to puppy school. It seems that early schooling is not limited to people these days*. The idea is to make the puppy as adoptable as possible and lower the chances of her being returned. The fostering lasts two to three months, so there’s a temp puppy in my future. Yay!
If this works out, Meg will keep doing it, so there may be a parade of temp puppies in my future!
So far, Queen Schatzi seems unconcerned by the invasion of her domain, while the puppy is her most loyal servant (next to Megan, that is). I was reminded of when my brother got his puppy, Jed, and Jed was so relieved to find his dog Heidi in residence. Here’s a teeny picture** I found of Jed and Heidi when they first met:
During my Beat the Heat week, we went to the shelter, walked the puppies’ mama, and checked out the pups, who are now two months old. “My” puppy immediately recognized me and came running, snuffling my fingers through the cage mesh. She also stared at me as I left, though the other puppies were playing in complete unconcern. I’m convinced she remembered me.
She is the runt of the litter, and in keeping with being “my” puppy, she is a little obnoxious, so M&M are hoping to make her nicer, too. If only someone had trained me at a young age! Her name is Harlow, as in the gorgeous and glamorous Jean, which is my middle name, too. What better name for a little starlet?
*Kids go to preschool really young now, at least by my antiquated standards. I didn’t go until the age of five, when I arrived at kindergarten already able to read and write. The idea of preschool kind of fills me with horror. I mean, aren’t 12+ years of school enough?
**It appears that a chair or table leg is growing out of Heidi’s head, but I’m pretty sure it wasn’t.