Here We Go Again!

Our family loves dogs. Loves them.

Were it up to our boys, we'd probably have our very own pack of dogs running around out back wreaking havoc and digging up the garden.

Every person peddling pups outside of WalMart or the grocery store probably thinks when we stop to croon over their puppies that we'll take one off their hands cave and adopt one of their (usually) pit-bull mix or Chihuahua mix puppies.

Not so. We've stuck to our guns.

Which, when Judah looks up with big pleading brown eyes and says, "When do I get my own puppy?" is a very hard thing to do.

We were suckered into fell for a cute puppy once, and found that (with that litter in particular, anyway) it just wasn't a good fit for our family.

The cute little puppy we enjoyed so much grew big and ornery and began to hurt our beloved Sharpei, Raisin. Literally nipping patches out of her fur. He'd also grown ungainly and routinely knocked Judah off his feet.

Our love of dogs prevented us from heartlessly dropping him off in the desert or taking him to the pound, so we found him another better home. One where he was spoiled rotten and actually grew to learn to do things like retrieve balls and obey commands, and lived the high life indoors on sofas and everything. What more could a dog ask for in life, right?

To help our boys adjust, they were granted visitation rights.

And when his new owner was away, Jericho even got to go take care of D.O.G. again.

It was really win-win for everyone involved.

The boys gradually grew to accept things and moved on.

When D.O.G. and his new owner moved out-of-State a couple of months ago, we thought that would be the last we'd ever see of him.

Perhaps I should clarify that I hoped it would be the last we would ever see of that dog. (I'm still suffering from a combination of mom-guilt and dog-guilt, for having found him a new home after the boys got so attached).

**sigh**

Well, to my dismay the kids delight...he's baaaaaack!



Temporarily.

Supposedly.

Need I say, hopefully?

It was a long sad story, but suffice it to say, one of their new roommates was mean to D.O.G. when the owner wasn't around. Abusive, actually.

To the point where the poor dog now cowers around males.

Even I, who was so happy to see D.O.G. go, can't abide cruelty to animals.

Though it was probably mostly due to the fact that the new owner, who regards her dogs more as children than pets, was so grief-stricken (teary eyes will get me every time, I'm afraid) at having to find a safe-house for her beloved dog.

She made the long drive back here to farm out her two dogs to those who she knew she could trust to care for them while she finishes her lease and finds a suitable place of her own.

And so, for now, D.O.G. is back with us once again.

Aside from the fact that he sneaks indoors every chance he gets and has to be put back outside each time...things are going pretty well so far.

Raisin is enjoying the change of scenery in the front yard, where she reigns as queen of the soon-to-be grass-covered (it's newly planted and growing in quite nicely) yard, which she gets all to herself, only occasionally working herself into a lather barking at her nemesis through the dividing fences, and usually then only when one of us gets too close to 'the enemy'.

Sharpei's are fiercely loyal and protective of their people.

The boys, of course, are thrilled with our yard guest. They are no doubt already getting attached to the cur all over again, because in spite of D.O.G.'s fear of men, he still still trots happily around behind his old buddy Jericho. Just like the old days.

(Oh, the guilt!)

When Judah exclaimed to D.O.G.'s owner, "Thanks for giveen him back to us!", she replied rather defensively, "not forever...just for a little while!"

And those words are what I'm clinging to. That all this is just for a little while.

:: :: :: ::

Edited to add that D.O.G. only ended up staying with us a few days.

His owner found them a new home right away, and he is now ensconced on his sofa once again.

However, not even a week later, we found this little guy taking refuge under our truck.



He shied away from us, and in the 104 degree hot summer sun that day, I decided to just let him be, as he needed the shade and a cool spot to rest his paws.

After he'd had some food and drink, he moved along of his own accord to another lady down the block, who managed to reunite him with his owners.

All's well that ends well, as Ma Ingalls used to say.

D.O.G. Guilt

Naturally, after we gave away D.O.G., I started seeing pictures of look-alike versions of him all over the place.

Like on the cover of Our Iowa magazine which our friend from church passed along to us recently.



And friend Cathy's blog. Her dog has slightly different coloring, but otherwise looks like he could be related.

Then there are the numerous photos we took of D.O.G's puppyhood, which I keep coming across on my hard drive. This from the first few moments we had D.O.G., and were introducing him to Raisin.





Those cute photos from back in the days when he was little and adorable and could do no wrong. (Why, why do I do this to myself?!)



Back when Raisin, puppyless dog that she was, took him in, put up with his whimpering those first couple of nights, and became a surrogate mother of sorts to him.



Back before he turned into the ungrateful cur that bit the hand that fed him.

When I start feeling guilty about this, wondering if we sent a wrong message to our kids about lifetime commitment to our pets, all I have to do is go outside and see Raisin living life to the fullest again without a care in the world, sleeping peacefully in the spring sunshine, the nipped patches of fur having finally grown back in, and think, "Nahhh....we did the right thing."

Besides, it's not like we dumped D.O.G. off in the desert or took him to the pound...we found him a very good home.

He is living large there. Moreso than he ever would have here.

In fact, he's downright spoiled.

Seriously, he's maybe two steps removed from Beverly Hills Chihuahua kind of spoiled.

He now gets premium dog food, all kinds of treats and dinner scraps, and gets to sleep indoors and climb around and sleep on the sofas and beds to his hearts content.

We're told he particularly enjoys rolling around on the sofas, as if to say, "Ahhh, see? This...this is the life I was born to lead."

What dog wouldn't relish that kind of royal treatment?

Clearly, he was meant to be an indoor dog. Something we simply couldn't give him here.

For a while there, we were careful not to bring up the topic of D.O.G. (Well, aside from the couple of times I accidentally slipped up and told Jericho, "Make sure you feed your dog(s).")

Then, for a couple of weeks there nothing was said about him.

At which point I happily deluded myself into thinking the kids had already forgotten about him.

That being out of sight meant that he was out of mind.

This might have gone on indefinitely, except that Judah took to calling his little stuffed toy puppy…you guessed it…"D.O.G.".

And wants to snuggle up with said toy puppy every night at bed time.

Now that in itself would have been doable. I could self-talk my way into believing that it was logical that little Judah named his toy puppy the only puppy name he knew, and would forget the real thing before too long.

That our explanations to the kids as to why he couldn't stay at our house and was happy where he was now had been sufficient to comfort their hearts in the matter.

And all this might have worked well for us...

...If only Jericho hadn't just asked to go visit D.O.G. over at his cousin's house this past week.

Oh, the guilt!

In fact, they almost talked us into a new Beagle puppy, too. Playing on mom and dad's sympathies, no doubt.

But we stuck to our guns.

For now.

Oh, but heaven help me those are sweet, adorable dogs.

I can sense that our resolve is slipping.

And whatever kind of dog we get this time around we're stuck with for good, because mama can't handle going through this kind of dog guilt again!