So I’ve been wanting to add another dog to the family for a while now, which ultimately led to cruising on a weekly basis in order to check out all the pups available for adoption.  I’m basically the kind of person who would live on a remote piece of property and wind up with 5o dogs if given the option so flipping through the pitiful, homeless dears is a form of torture for me.

A few weeks ago a friend spotted a chihuahua mix who was languishing at a local shelter and decided she wanted to stop in to have a look at him.  As I am a glutton for punishment, I decided to go with her.  Once there we were met by the adorable faces of ten or fifteen dogs all dying for attention and a home.  My heartstrings were pulled by two dogs in particular – one of whom had been diagnosed with heartworms.   This, of course, is tantamount to a death sentence at a kill shelter because 1) they are without the funds to treat the dog (which can be expensive) and 2) because they are left untreated, they are less likely to be adopted.  Both dogs seemed quiet and friendly and, most importantly, housebroken.  Because I am a sucker, I ultimately determined the far more “heroic” option was to adopt the heartworm positive dog, who was being called Mitch.

After some whining, needling “convincing” the hubs agreed to go have a look at the pup in question.  Mitch met the hubs and the Frog and everyone got along wonderfully.  After assuring the hubs that I would help with walks and teach the lil bugger some doggie manners, he agreed to the adoption.  While filling out the paperwork, the shelter worker quietly informed us that Mitch was indeed quite the lucky dog because he probably would’ve only been given another week before “room” would have had to be made.  As we didn’t like the name Mitch, we ultimately settled on Duke a.k.a. The Dude a.k.a. The Devil.

Since coming home, Duke has been “a challenge.”  See, we’ve been spoiled by The Frog.  She came to us at age 4(ish) and is the most CHILL dog I’ve ever met and had all of her doggie manners mastered.  When we first brought her to get groomed at the vet’s office the tech asked for our permission to put The Frog under anesthesia during the grooming process as apparently some dogs FREAK THE F OUT.  I looked at The Frog, then looked at the tech and said, “Sure.  But I somehow doubt that will be necessary.”  When I went to pick her up, the tech was amazed that Madison had fallen asleep during the process.  Without narcotic intervention.  So you can understand how the crazed, separation-anxiety riddled, food-obsessed Duke has had quite the impact on the family dynamic.

He seems to have this inexhaustible penchant for being an ass despite the long walks/runs he’s taken on every freakin’ day.  Meanwhile, we keep thinking the little bugger should be so grateful to have been taken home that when the people tell him to chill the F out, he would do it.  He’s lovely when he’s calm (i.e. asleep) but you can’t so much as get up to pee without stirring in him the desire to chase you down the hallway and whine at the bathroom door.  It’s like he’s POSITIVE that there’s some secret passageway or wormhole through which you’ve just stepped and he’s SUPER PISSED or sad or whatever the hell he feels that he didn’t get to come along.

I keep telling myself that once he gets his nuts cut off his behavior will improve.  Plus, once that’s done he’ll be welcome at Camp Bow Wow where he can run around like a damn fool all he wants.  In the meantime, I’m keeping my fingers crossed that the hubs doesn’t divorce me.  Wheeeeeeeeeeee!!