Because it really is personal…

I do. They’re soft and squishy and devoted. I can forgive them their socially unacceptable poops and barfs and stinky breath. I guess it’s the baby thing, they just don’t know any better. CJ came home with a puppy he found at the dumpster. While we were gone, of course. She’s a pretty thing, bigger at (about) 3 months than our full grown dachshunds, with soft eyes and winsome demeanor. I suspect she’s not entirely healthy, because she’s kind of lethargic. We wormed her yesterday and her gut went from almost turgid to rather starved looking over night. She may just be anemic from so many worms, and that would make anyone tired.

She loves to talk. Grunts and hoots and whistles her needs known, barks if she needs to go out (how smart is that? she’s only messed in the house once!). She is, however, timid of the pet door. I’ve poked her through it a couple of times and she made her displeasure eloquently known. I suppose that’s a good thing, as in a couple of months she’ll be too big for it.

She is CJ’s responsibility. He will have to pay for her veterinary care, shots etc. I will guide and advise as he asks, but she is his responsibility. In the mean time, I get to play with her during the day.

She loves to swim. LOVES it. She has the webbed paws of a water dog. A bit ago she was outside getting a sip of water, and tried to crawl into the water dish. I took the hint and walked toward the pool. She ran ahead and waited politely for me to put her in. Then she swam, several turns around looking happy and gagging a bit on gulps of water. Now she naps. Sweet puppy. I can see her in 6 months joyfully leaping into the water. Well, that would be December but she is a water dog.