Friday, November 11, 2011

Maggie, Day Three

     Our animal farm story continues with the arrival of Maggie. Her picture was posted on the internet site for St. Hubert's.  Something about her look kept me going back.  It could have been the color, or the eyes, or the expression on her face, or the desire to find another Shiloh.
     Off to St. Hubert's to take a closer look at Maggie.  There she lay on her bed as I walked through the kennel area.  It reminded me of Shiloh 4 years ago, lying patiently while all the other dogs jumped and barked.  She did get up on my return trip down the aisle.  I asked to see her.
     In the outside enclosure she was moderately interested in me, but more interested in the smells of the cage.   Hooked pretty much at first sight, paperwork was processed, fee paid, and Maggie left St. Hubert's. Should I have cared more that the previous two matches did not work out? After listening carefully to the details of her history, I thought that I had the situation figured out, and it would be a successful match.

Is that a smile?
     She was wonderful in the car. She was wonderful in the house (cross this off, that was only the first three hours of the first night).  She didn't jump up on people and liked to be petted. She was wonderful until poor Gizmo kitty, who did not know to let sleeping dogs lie, decided to go close and sniff Maggie's nose while she was sleeping by me.   Too late to stop the interaction,  Maggie opened her eyes, saw the cat, growled and took off.  Now there is a reason for the expression scaredy cat.  That is Giz even on her best day.  She took off and couldn't be found for hours - the next day actually.  She wanted no part of this dog.  This home invasion by a new creature was not a Shiloh.
     Now what?  I couldn't fall back asleep and I knew I wasn't dozing because I was beginning to see the entire nightly rerun of an evening's worth of Fox programs.
     What was I going to do if Maggie considered cats a food group?  There were three more in the barn outside. The mixed breeds in this dog need to be outside and able to run.  This might be trouble.        
     Not having kids to keep me awake at night, now it was a dog.  The Carrie Underwood song kept playing over and over in my mind, "It started out hey, cutie, where'd you come from, then it turned into oh, no, what have I done?"  Sixty plus pounds of dog and still a puppy? What had I done?
      Luckily with the morning light and some sleep more rational thought prevailed. So, the facts as known -she likes to chew - anything, likes to run - everywhere, forget about trying to catch her on a tear around, likes to counter surf - note to self, keep food back from the edge, but she has the sweetest face and she still has a puppy brain. A puppy brain, cope with it, outsmart it, after all you are a human, the superior species higher up on the brain chain.
      Here she'll have her forever home, but she'll never know that if it weren't for Shiloh being such a great companion, she might have ended up in someone else's home.

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