It's a ....

Girl!

The dog, that is.  The dog that is currently on the floor beside the couch, farting, much like Walter the Farting Dog, for all you preschool readers out there (imagine having to read that story, along with Walter Goes on a Cruise to your child for 21 days straight, thanks to my sister's Christmas present).

Anyway, how did this come to be, you must ask?  Are you crazy?  You have a 4 year old, a baby due in June, and a husband who you never see? 

And I must answer that I don't really know, expect that for all my micromanaging of our daily life and future, I am at heart irrational and very, very impulsive.  In fact, I have been advising a friend of mine who has a newborn and a 2 year old that a dog at this stage is a very, very bad idea, and that I certainly would not be getting a dog, as is advised by the experts, until my kids were well into elementary school.

It all started on Friday.  Fridays I don't work, so was writing while waiting for Kirk, who has been working very strange and wee morning hours, to wake up.  I opened my work email to see if there was any strike updates.  And lo and behold, the veterinary technician program at the college had sent out an email about animals they had for adoptions.  So, naturally, I looked.  And, naturally, I immediately saw a picture of a droopy eared black puppy (Kirk and I are suckers for droopy eared, soulful eyed black puppies.)  I would put in a photo, but I cannot figure it out, luddite that I am.

When Kirk arose, I said "Kirk, I want to show you something..."  And, despite his saying "Brenda, we can't get a dog right now," then, "You know you will see that dog and not be able to say no" we ended up bringing one home on Saturday morning. 

Her name is Indie, she is a black lab/field spaniel cross (which is a very good combination temperament wise), and she is smart as a whip and equally sweet.  She is about knee height and full grown at around 1 year old.  We had HUGE aggression problems with our previous dog (see post about miscarriage early last summer), and this little dog does not seem to have a stitch of mean-ness in her.   As basically a pup, she still quite enjoys nibbling at people (Anja in particular), so we are being quite firm about this.  In fact, given our previous experience, we are both very firm about rules, which are enforced through patience, consistency and leadership rather than treat training.  (People look at me like I know not of what I speak about this, much like having kids, but I have been through the dog fire, and no one could convince me otherwise at this point) She goes up the stairs and through doors after us, is expected to remain where put until released, NO table food, NO furniture, NO beds, NO leading or pulling on walks, RESPECT of cats (Henry, one of our two cats, has given her a good couple of swats and in fact, the first time Indie saw Henry, she ran to Kirk and curled up on his lap) and kids, etc.  She is very timid, though, and Kirk's firmness does scare her sometimes as he's, well, much bigger than she is.  So she runs and hides by me until he manages to convince her that it's all ok.  Of course, plenty of play, too.


She is not fully housebroken, which frightens me, but is a very quick study, so I'm hoping she gets it soon as it limits my new-found mobility and "me-time," (do you get the sense yet that I tend to shoot myself in the foot?)  but I'll just replace swimming with walking - winter is almost over anyway.  I am worried about Thursdays, as I work all day.  Also, I forgot to consider that Kirk has to go to Iqualauit for a month next year, and that he might do some international fellowship electives in the years to come.  And that kids under 8 and dogs should never be alone in the same room even if you do trust your dog.  She also eats her own poo.  Delicious when frozen in snow!  How gross!

However, last night I was so worried about her going pee on our bedroom carpet, I kept waking up to ask her if she had to go pee.  In response, she would run back to her bed, curl up, and close her eyes.  She does not seem to like the cold. 

So, I am crazy and overwhelmed and it's all entirely of my doing.  We are forever-home type people for animals, though, so what to do at this point but enjoy, right??  Right???

Meanwhile, Henry, in a fit of pique, peed in the bathtub.  I hear him scratching up there now.