As *A* mentioned in a comment to our last post, we are not entirely new to adoption. That’s true, though there are quite a few differences—just one or two bits of paperwork, no home study required, and well, no birthparents picked us out. Anyway, the oldest (by a month) is Molly, who will be 6 years old in April and was named after Molly Weasley, of course. We adopted her from Furkids when we lived in Marietta.
When we went to meet Molly, a little paw reached out of the cage next door to her and touched my shoulder. Little did the creature whose paw this was realize that I was a confirmed dog person (HA! she now scoffs at the idea). We decided she must come home with us too. Meet Maple, who was one month younger than Molly, and was named after *E*’s favorite tree in the fall (the time of year we got them).
The cats, then, had been next-door neighbors, but when we brought them home, they didn’t jive really well at first. Maple is a growler–even from kittenhood she has growled when she’s been mad, scared, or feeling sorta testy. There was a lot of growling at first, and occasionally still, when she needs her space–well, we all get kinda growly when we need our space, right? But in the wintertime when it’s cold outside, they’re the best of friends:
Latest to join our family has been our dopey black Lab / Boxer mix, Tucker, named after *E*’s favorite storyteller, Kathryn Tucker Windham. He was being fostered by a Wilkesboro Humane Society volunteer after being rescued from a cruel owner who threatened to kill him.
We adopted him almost a year ago, and let me tell you, the annoying comment people make when you announce you want to have kids–the recommendation that you get a dog first–well, actually, that’s not a half bad idea. He’s been a lot more work than either of us remember our dogs growing up being. After five years with cats, who are pretty much self-entertaining and independent, enter this creature who just breathes to be by your side. You don’t even have to do anything. He just thrives off of being your shadow. Constantly. Limitless dedication can be a little unnerving. With all that boundless slobbery love comes an eager and fantastic hiking buddy, and a great little traveler–he’s braved two 8-hour trips to Alabama without so much as a woof of complaint.
We’ve read that Labs are typically pretty dumb until they’re two, so we’re keeping our fingers crossed (he turns two the end of June). He’s definitely a little dopey, though he’s a big old teddy bear–not an aggressive bone in his body. It’s hard to imagine him being intimidating, unless it’s because of his size, though he’s definitely small for a Lab–he’s only about 72 pounds. We’re hoping, once he gets a little older and mellows out a bit, that *A* can train him as a therapy dog and take him to work. When he doesn’t have a case of the sillies he has a great temperament.
We tried to get all three of the beasties to take a photo together, but it didn’t work out so well–rather like herding cats (couldn’t resist :)) Actually they co-exist quite peacefully, so long as everyone remembers that Maple is the boss, Molly is her second-in-command, and Tucker is the lowly minion who is allowed to remain so long as he doesn’t annoy the administration excessively (it’s a fine line sometimes). As for where *A* and I fit in, we’re the Food-Givers, Box-Cleaners, Toy-Fetchers, and Minion-Walkers, so we may share their space so long as we stay in our places.
I’ve gotta say–sometimes there’s little better than coming home at the end of a long frustrating day at work than flopping on the couch with the closest tolerant beastie and letting it all melt away. It’s all about perspective, people.