George and Lacy

There’s no getting around the fact that I have too many animals. There are several cats that need new homes (I’m working on it!) and three dogs that are here to stay. Spike and You are the guardians of the homestead, and poor George is just an overgrown puppy that has not one ounce of social grace. It’s true. Come morning, he tramples me as I lay in bed without so much as an “excuse me, it’s time for my morning jog.”

Two weeks ago, I was on my way home from Durham, driving through a huge rain storm and keeping an eye to the sky for funnel clouds when my cell rang. I thought - this has to be more important than funnel clouds, for someone to call me on the cell phone!"  so I pulled over and answered. It was my son.

I heard you were driving through some bad weather. Is everything ok?

His concern really touched me, but did not surprise me because lately he had been making sure his mama was ok, making sure I had a decent vehicle to drive, etc. But anyway, I said - It’s not too bad! Just passed through a thick rain, but everything seems calm now. I felt the need to reassure him.

That’s good, mom! Hey listen, he said, before I could tell him what a good son he is and how much I appreciate him, you know this dog I got from Robert? I have to take her to the pound.

WHAT? You’re taking her to the pound? But son, I thought Jess loved her!

She does, but we aren’t home much and don’t have the time to take with her and she shreds the bathroom every day. We can’t keep her locked in there, and so she has to go. I hope somebody adopts her. It would be awful if she didn’t get a home and they had to put her down.

He paused to let that last statement sink in and then said in a voice full of epiphany - HEY! Why don’t you take her? She loves you already! And since you’re almost home, you could just swing by and pick her up. I have a BIG bag of dog food, a leash, collar, chew toys…”

I never saw it coming. But in thirty minutes, I was on my way home home with a four month old black rat terrier (I think) pup who looks like a cross between a miniature doberman, tiny greyhound cartoon character dog that has legs too long for it’s little body and ears so big that one of them flops while the other stands straight up. I guess both standing would be too top heavy. ET Phone Home Alien Dog antennas.

Well, my grandpuppy was one happylittle dog to have a home (I guess). She hopped out of the truck, into the house and was prancing like…nothing I’ve ever seen before…when she met George.

George is at least 10 times her size, and when he saw a playmate, he sprang into action.  That poor little alien dog cowered and cringed and made herself even smaller by curling up in a tight ball and closing her eyes (so George couldn’t see her, I suppose).  She was a nervous wreck, completely uncertain of her surroundings and her ability to survive the Great Hairy Monster.  He was gentle enough - he didn’t nip to hurt, but she didn’t know he meant no harm.  He just wanted to play.

I had serious reservations about leaving them in the house while I went to work, but I need not have feared.  When I got home, Lacy had him in a headlock, a tuft of his considerable hair hanging from her chin like a beard, daring him to move.  And he let her.

They have been inseparable, since.  When Lacy gets tired of prancing on her own, she puts her font paws on George’s back and half-hitches a ride down the hallway. He allows her into his “cave”, a spot under my desk where his blanket and pillow are.  But she prefers to sleep in the bed with me, and prefers to sleep the way I do.  If I’m on my back, she’s on her back.  On my side, she’s on her side.  What a strange little bedfellow she is. She particularly likes burrowing under the covers, hiding from the rest of the world.  I guess we all like a cozy place from time to time where we can be alone.

At any rate, I have my fourth and final (for now) dog.  And she’s a cutie.