We have three dogs. Nick is The Dog...he lives in the house, loves his mama, can't be trusted to behave around strangers and is a big baby. One hundred twenty pounds of yellow lab.
Tupelo and Copper are...legacies. Copper came from a teacher at our school, and is the single ugliest dog ever put on this planet. He has beau coups of attitude, and if he is stretched out on a step and you need to get by? Hate it for you. He will cock an eyebrow in your direction, but that's the only acknowledgement you'll get. Step over, and don't disturb him while you're doing it. He got there first.
Tupelo came from a soccer teammate. Black and white generic. Smart but...scattered. Does tricks if you ask him but has a car-chasing gene. I hit him a couple of months ago, knocked him into the middle of next week. Took him about ten days to get over it and then...every now and then he chases cars. Special kind of stupid.
There are cats. This is the country so...today there are four, tomorrow there may be ten, the next day two. Can't save every chicken.
I got out at the liquor store two Fridays ago and this BEAUTIFUL retriever/setter/golden-something came bounding up to me. Full parking lot on the side of a major four-lane highway and this dog is wandering around amongst the cars. Followed to the door of the store and then watched me go in. Me, and just me. There were tons of people there but...me. Turns out, he had shown up a couple of weeks ago, disappeared, come back, left again. Must live toward the river.
When I left? That dog was sitting in my car. MY. CAR. My sister and I were swapping kids and when she pulled up and they opened the car doors? He got in my car. HOW DID HE KNOW THAT WAS MY CAR????? Obviously, the Sucker tattoo extends to possessions.
We drove through the neighborhood, opening the door at intervals and waiting on him to recognize something. No go. Went back to the shopping complex and borrowed paper and marker and put up signs at the businesses. Came home and waited on the phone to ring.
That was 2-1/2 weeks ago.
I have blanketed Facebook and my email. Put an ad in the paper. No collar or tags. No chip.
Y'all...this is a GREAT dog. He sits, shakes and walks to a leash. He is house-broken. Stays outside during the day...sleeps at the foot of the bed at night. Is breathtakingly regal. Calm. Polite.
He definitely IS a retriever, though. We figured out THAT the night we brought him home, and everyone was scattered throughout the house. Heard this crash, squawking and uproar and when we got to the hall...Red Dog had "retrieved" Sugar. The 13-year-old cockatiel. A little while later The Nice Kid came in and said, "Mom, there's seed coming out of that puncture wound in Sugar's chest."
Not good. She died during the night. Obviously, we didn't think THAT one through.
So here we sit.
This house is bursting at the seams and we have ANOTHER dog. As my sister pointed out? That's how I ended up with three kids...things just "happen." Apparently?
I'm a REAL slow learner. ')