She hasn't quite gotten the hang of climbing inside her bed. And yes, her blanket says "Lucky."
For those who nudge me when I don't post for a while, thank you. About five or six times a day the message "Nobody reads what you write" zings through my brain, and I have to counter it with yoga breathing and some positive affirmations. In those times, I remember those gentle emails from Bob, John and Barbara, and I feel validated.
I do have some great excuses this time, however: Two weeks ago I spent the weekend in Tehachapi, and last weekend nothing in the world mattered except Purrl getting well. (We do not know what made her sick, but she almost left me, and I could do nothing but sit beside her and will her to recover, which she did, eventually.)
And this weekend? This weekend I was finally able to bring Honey/Sunshine "Sunny" West home from the shelter. I adopted her two weeks ago, shortly after my last post about Sgt. Thomas Tibbs, but before her spay surgery the next day she was diagnosed with kennel cough, so she had to remain in quarantine until she was all better and could undergo the surgery. That happened Friday, so I brought her home yesterday. As I write this, she is curled in a dog ball on the floor of my office, as is Thomas about three feet from her. Looks like this is going to work out just fine....
Actually, I've never seen Thom warm up to another dog as he has with her. He'd met her briefly at the shelter a few days before I adopted her, but he was definitely in barely-controlled-panic mode being back on that turf, and he wanted nothing more than to jump back in the truck and return to the safe haven of home, so he paid her little attention. But yesterday when I brought her into the yard, he reached forward to sniff noses with her, and they wagged their tails at each other. They roamed the yard together, ate dinner separately but shared space when it was treat time, and he was comfortable having her in his domain inside the house. This is all good stuff.
"Honey" (her name at the shelter) has a classic lab personality; she just wants to be wherever I am, so I've allowed her to be, for the most part (in when I'm home, outside with Thomas when I leave). She is extremely mellow (thus the hippie name of "Sunshine," with an homage to Mom's side of the family with "West"— and some of you will remember the old TV series, "Honey West," with Anne Francis, which I loved), and she is so sweet even the vet who did her spay surgery fell in love with her a little bit.
Of course, this is all great testimony to how dogs can forgive and move forward, even when life has not been kind. This girl is three or a bit older, but it's clear from her body that she has spent her life as a puppy factory; she had not yet recovered fully from nursing her last litter, yet when the spay surgery was done it was discovered she was pregnant again. Poor babies. Poor mama. She also has a few old scars on her muzzle and leg, wounds that healed but left traces of the trauma. That's okay. She's moved on to a new life now where she will enjoy good food, a soft bed, healthy treats and a daily walk. (The first one was a leisurely stroll around the cul de sac this afternoon, which she enjoyed immensely.) Oh, and lots of love, of course.