Julia Spencer-Fleming: It's been an all-female hang out at my house ever since Youngest and the Guest Son went back to U Maine over a year ago - just me, the Maine Millennial, and her dog Janey, the occasionally terrified rescue pup from the streets of Tijuana. But last month, I rectified that by adopting two adorable little guys: Rocky and Kingsley.
The boys had been surrendered in Mississippi, and found their way to the opposite end of the country thanks to Maine Lab Rescue (an organization that obviously helps out more than Labrador retrievers.)
I had been thinking that after three years of not owning a dog, I might be ready to pick up a leash again. (This is a metaphor. Since my sweet little Louie died, I have fostered one dog and taken on nearly full-time care of Janey since Victoria got a new job last November. But, you know, my dog.)
I was looking in Petfinder, as one does, and saw a picture of a "bonded pair of Shih Tzus," which is not accurate, since Kingsley is a Shih Tzu and Rocky is a Shih-something else. Terrier, maybe? By happenstance, they were going to be at an adoption event at the local Pet Smart store that Saturday. So I decided I would go to just take a look.
I know, I know.
These two have been an absolute delight. Someone loved them very much, as they as as friendly and affectionate with the guys at the transfer station as they are with me. They love to ride in the car, they're pretty well housebroken (anyone who has had a Shih Tzu knows it's a process) and they are extremely obedient to sit, wait, come, up, down, etc.
Integrating them into a household that already had two cats and a dog has also been a process, but the edges are well smoothed off at this point. I've even gotten comfortable enough with juggling three leashes that I've started listening to podcasts during out morning walk again.
There are downsides, of course. I did not think through what a three-dog home would sound like when the mail truck pulled up to my post box or, God forbid, when the next-door neighbor was inconsiderate enough to slam her car door when getting out of her vehicle. Barking, it turns out, increases exponentially as you add more doggos into the mix.
I'm taking shorter walks, because I haven't figured out how to meet the needs of the two younger dogs while not taxing the older Kingsley past his endurance. (I tried separate walks, but they all looked so broken- hearted!)
Then there's the matter of keeping Kingsley out of the cat's litter box, since I discovered a few days after he arrived that he's a connoisseur of the delicacies found within, if you know what I mean. I've had an ever-expanding barricade consisting of a window fan, then the fan plus a board, and recently, the fan plus two boards. This seems to have finally stopped him, although I keep catching him with peeping over the top, mournfully contemplating the unreachable buffet.
But overall, as is so often the case, these two puppers give back much more than I give to them. If the prospect of another closed-up winter spent ducking the Covid delta variant has you down, I can highly recommend making a visit to your local rescue organization or animal shelter.
How about you, dear readers? What's going on with your pets?
