My first dog Misfit passed away a couple years ago. At the time, I was too busy with school and work and everything to even think about a new dog. Recently, however, the itch has returned - volunteering at the animal shelter just wasn’t enough anymore, I needed a stronger dose. After finishing school and trimming down to a single job, I have a LOT more free time and energy. I started the great puppy hunt a few months ago. At first, I was leaning towards a Doberman - the few I’ve met have been gorgeous and lively and ridiculously smart. Volunteering at an animal shelter tends to predispose one towards rescues - most of the dogs there are stupidly sweet and adorable and you just can’t figure out how someone could surrender all of that, even though your brain can throw 50 ways to leave your lovely behind. Purebred anything is rare at a shelter, and puppies last somewhere on the magnitude of hours, not days or weeks, so I was looking around elsewhere as well. I’ve been talking with a breeder nearby with a litter due in a couple months, and was on the list for a pet quality female.
Yesterday, a friend of mine that volunteers at the St. Paul Humane Society sent me a picture of sisters that would be available for adoption at noon. They definitely weren’t Dobes, but by Gawd were they just all kinds of cuddly adorableness - they have them listed as lab/heeler mixes, and they were big - 3 months old and 30 pounds. Needless to say, I headed straight there after work. When I got there, I just about ran to the dogs (I do this anyway, but the strides were a bit longer last night). Minka was just coming back from a visit with another couple, and they were gung-ho that she had a new home. I was ok with that, because I had my eye on Tandy anyway.
I finally had the chance to spend some time with her. She was VERY shy, but eventually warmed up. It turns out they had just arrived from Arkansas a couple days ago, and there wasn’t much chance for them to acclimate. Add in her sister leaving suddenly, and it made plenty of sense. She wasn’t much for walking on a leash, but the moment I sat down, she was right next to me, cleaning everything that could have been on my hands. Everything she did screamed TAKE ME HOME, so it was decided. They agreed to hold her for 24 hours while I made sure I was mentally and emotionally ready for a puppy (Misfit was 2 years old when she came home with me), but they called me just this morning to remind me that the hold was good for the rest of the day. As if I could forget! I woke up this morning knowing I would have a little running around the house tonight.
All morning, I was agonizing over a name. I mean, Tandy is just NOT going to cut it. I’ve been toying with using different languages for training - dogs don’t give a flying nuthin’ what language you use. Her recall will be Spanish, No in German, and a variety of other commands in other languages. Her crate will even be “Go To Jail”, because that just seems incredibly funny to me, given that it’s a safe space for her. I was going to go with “Kratsivaya”, Russian for Beautiful, but it was just too many syllables. So Vaya it is. After irk, I head north, stopping by a PetSmart to get all the toys and bowls and treats and fencing and toys and food and toys and chewies and toys, then pick her up. A friend is coming along to help with the car ride - it’s about an hour home, and will probably be pretty stressful. Boss-man agreed to let me take hourlong lunches for the next couple weeks to help her get adjusted, so I’m excited that my days will include puppy breaks right smack dab in the middle. I’m just freakin EXCITED!
Pics will come later. She already knows how to pose for the camera.
