Three months ago today, Husband and I woke up early on a Saturday morning, trekked an hour and a half into the suburbs, and came home with our new best friend, a 4.5 year old rottweiler/border collie mix.
As a lifelong cat person, I really had no idea what to expect from a dog. I’ve definitely been put to the test as a dog owner in the past 12 weeks – trips to and from the vet, ultrasounds, x-rays, more doggie vomit than I ever envisioned having to clean up in my life – but we think (knock on wood!) we’re finally getting her digestive issues sorted out and are heading in the right direction.
As an adult shelter dog, she certainly has a few behavioral issues we’re working on (namely, serious food aggression and an extreme dislike of strangers looking her in the eye) and we haven’t figured out all her littler quirks (it’s hard to figure out what sets her off when she immediately flips between growling and snarling to jumping in your lap to lick your face), but after a mere three months, she’s already a member of the family. I can’t believe someone gave her up and dumped her off at a rescue ranch, but I’m so happy they did, and the timing was right that she could come home with us.
Dreidel Dog has pretty much violated all the rules I set out for her – no sleeping on the living room couch (see above: but who could resist a black and white polka dotted dog on a black and white herringbone couch?), no licking my face (we’re still working on not doing this, but she gets in a good lick once in a while), and no climbing on the bed – while she still hasn’t tried to sleep in the bed, this weekend she figured out how to throw her paws around me and pull herself up into our bed in the morning. Today, to thank me for providing her with a loving home, food, and very expensive veterinary care, she tried to use my face to haul her 70-pound self up into bed, leaving me with a nice scratch below my eye, on my eyelid, and a black eye. Thanks, dog.
It’s a good thing you’re so cute.