Meeting, Greeting, and Saying Goodbye

The House Guest

It has been an exciting and exhausting couple of days.  Over the last 504 dog hours (also known as 72 human hours) I have graciously opened my home to a little brown and white four legged guest, shared with her my dog biscuits, my family's affections, and three of my tennis balls, and barked words of encouragement to a nice couple who came to adopt her.  Allow me to chronicle my experiences during these action packed days.

As I reported in my last post, Sister brought home a little brown and white runaway dog from the Library on Tuesday morning, but because the pup was so nervous, I wasn't allowed to meet her.  All I got was a quick nose bunk through a baby gate (what kind of greeting is that?). 

Well, by Wednesday morning I was practically beside myself with curiosity and driving my family crazy with my exuberance.  Who was this little dog?  How long was she staying?  Was she my replacement?  Did she bring any food to share (a good guest will always bring something to share with the host, after all)?  I guess my family realized that I wasn't going to relax until at least some of my questions were answered (and as a result I wasn't going to allow them to relax either) so at lunch time, after I was taken for a long walk around town and the pup was taken for a walk around the town she was found in, Ma declared that it was high time for the pup and I to meet.  Channeling Cesar Millan (she's a big fan), Ma announced that the pup and I were going to go for a pack walk around town. 

I was a bit confused.  Yeah, I had watched Cesar with my family dozens of times before, but, truthfully, I had spent most of my time watching the dogs and not necessarily listening to what was being said (after all, I'm an exceedingly bright and well trained dog and I have my humans well trained as well--I don't need any of Cesar's hints).  Anyway, Ma put my leash back on me and, after a brief moment of protest (I had just come home from a walk, I didn't want to go for another one), led me out of the house.  When we got out to the street, I was shocked to discover that Sister was already waiting for us and she had the little pup on a leash as well.  Super excited and super curious, I lunged toward the pup and sniffed her all over.  Then, after our hellos were said, Ma and Sister took both of us for a short walk around the neighborhood and, with the exception of when the pup startled me by sneaking up on me from behind, we walked rather nicely together (though Sister did have to tell me to stop whacking the pup across the face with my tail--perhaps she shouldn't have been walking so close to me to begin with).  Mercifully, when we got home, it was nap time.  The house guest went back into her room and I found a nice cool piece of floor in the kitchen.

Me and the House Guest

Later that day, when Pa came home from work, I got the chance to meet my house guest again.  Only this time, we were off leash in the backyard.  We ran around a bit at first, but then Pa did something very strange:  He picked up one of my tennis balls and chucked it across the yard.  I turned to give him a quizzical "why did you do that?" stare, but I was immediately distracted by a brown and white blur streaking past my eyes.  I chased after the blur and when it stopped running I was shocked to discover that it had actually been the pup--she had gone running after the ball Pa had just thrown and was picking it up.  Then she did something even weirder.  She walked back to Pa, spit the ball out onto the grass, and backed away, her tail wagging, as though she expected something.  I had no idea what she wanted, but, for some reason, it appeared that Pa actually did!  He picked up the ball and threw it across the yard again.  Just as before, the pup shot across the yard at a breakneck speed (I scurried along after to observe what was happening) and just as before she picked the ball up, carried it back to Pa, spit it out, and backed away expectantly.  This continued for what seemed like hours.  Pa kept throwing the ball, the pup kept bringing it back, and I kept chasing after the pup.  Eventually, I completely ran out of gas and sought out a nice cool patch of grass to hunker down on.  From my spot, I racked my brain trying to figure out why Pa and the pup continued to engage in this strange throwing and retrieving activity (I still don't get the point of the activity, if the Pa wanted the ball so badly why did he keep throwing it away?). 

Eventually, when Pa's pitching arm was tired, it was decided that we should all go back into the house.  "Great!" I thought, "I'm really looking forward to a drink of water, a cookie, and my early-evening-before-bedtime nap."  It wasn't meant to be, however.  Ma and Pa decided that we four (five when Sister came home from work a couple of hours later) should hang out in the living room together.  So, long story short, my nap was replaced with me trying to keep the house guest from monopolizing the attention of my humans.  Every time she tried to get a scratch from my Pa, I pushed my way in, slobbered on her head, and demanded a scratch myself.  And every time she jumped up on Ma, I pushed her away and tried jumping into Ma's arms (Ma was not thrill and said something about me being a "Big Galoot").  And when she tried climbing onto Sister's lap, I threw myself onto Sister's lap (Sister, for some reason, was not thrilled with this situation either and said something about me having eaten too many dog biscuits--I disagree with that statement whole-heartily). 

Finally, it was bedtime.  The house guest and I were both taken outside to do our business then she retired to her room and I collapsed in Ma and Pa's room.

The next day, Thursday, I woke up with the hope that the day before had just been one big, long, exhausting dream; that I was once again an "only dog."  I discovered that it was not a dream when Sister woke up early (which she never does if she can help it) to make breakfast for and walk the pup.  In a temporary fit of desperation, I ran after Pa when he walked to his car in hopes that he'd take me with him to work.

Now, don't get me wrong.  It's not as if I disliked the house guest or anything.  She was very polite (except for when she tried to hog my family's attention) and very never made a sound (I don't want anyone attempting to out-bark me).  Not to mention, all my loyal readers out there know that I love absolutely love participating in doggy play dates.  I guess, ultimately, the notion that a good house guest is one who knows when to leave holds true. 

The rest of the morning and early afternoon was odd but, ultimately, fairly uneventful.  At lunch time Sister came home and she and I ate lunch together--alone--in the backyard.  Then she let the pup out to play too and I watched in horror as she did her business right in the middle of my backyard (there is a designated spot alongside the driveway for such needs).  In protest, I dug a hole along the side of the house.  Then I was sent inside and Sister and the pup had solo play time (the same throwing/retrieving activity Pa and the pup were participating in the night before).  The pup was then sent inside and I got the final solo play time with Sister before I too went inside for a nap.

I could just feel that something was different when Sister came home from work that evening.  First she let me out and chased me around the backyard.  Then she called me over to her and told me a secret:  "It looks like Ma found a home for our little house guest!"  I wagged my tail happily.

A little while later, a car that I didn't recognize pulled up into my driveway and a couple got out.  It was Tricia (someone Ma works with) and her husband Pat and they were interested in adopting the little pup.  Now, I knew that the little pup had a nice personality and that, with the exception of her strange fascination with that tennis ball (nope, still don't get that), she would be a perfect match for these nice people, but I decided that I should help her make her case by barking, at the top of my lungs, all of her attributes. 

In no time at all, it was official.  The little dog was adopted by Tricia and Pat and they drove off into the sunset with the pup comfortably resting on Pat's lap. 

But then something sad/good happened.  Ma found out today that while Pat was walking the pup around his neighborhood, someone stopped him saying that he thought he saw a picture of the little pup on a "Lost Dog" sign.  Now the little pup (if it is indeed her) might be heading back to her real home.  I feel so bad for Tricia and Pat and for what has happened.  As much as I know that the first priority was always to find her real owner, I also know that the little pup was perfect for them.

No matter what happens, I wish the little pup luck and I hope she's happy and well taken care of wherever and with whomever she's with.