This past weekend, Matt was outside just after midnight when he heard some nearby wimpering. Turning to listen closely (whether by instinct or simple curiosity), he saw a small brown dog come bounding over, all whines and ears back. The little pup just sat at his feet staring up at him. Well what the hell do you do at that point?! After a choice HBO word, knowing full well what was in store, he reached down and comforted this lost creature. I know this because just moments later the bedroom light flooded over my sleeping self and I was told to come downstairs and see something "cute, furry, lost and terrible".
With the same choice HBO word, I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and threw off the covers. "Terrible" is right - we couldn't bring this puppy into the house. What if it had distemper or parvo? We'd just seen a case of parvo not a week ago at the clinic. All these thoughts were put on hold as I opened the door and looked down the stairs. There, a whining, simpering, doe-eyed puppy looked up at me and melted my heart.
We looked him over and found gum in his dirty fur, his skin loose over visible ribs. Poor kid - was he in this condition and just ran away recently? Was he abandoned by somebody? Stairs were completely foreign to him and every house around us has 2 stories. "Inside" seemed to be another totally foreign concept. He was wearing a collar without tags and when we scanned him later, we discovered he had no microchip either.
We put a leash on him and walked around the buildings, hoping to reunite him with his owners. Nobody was out looking, the streets were empty. More HBO words....what now?
Plan B involved taking him to the clinic where I work and checking him over for parasites, a microchip, and some clue as to his age. We had to wake up T at 12:30 in the morning to keep her from being home alone. Upon seeing the foundling, her eyes lit up like diamonds. She was in love!
At the clinic, we checked him for parasites and he was badly infested with hookworms. Yuk. Those could kill a pup! I dewormed him and left him there; safe for the night.
Against all of our better judgement (except T because she's in love), we've decided to keep him. So maybe the "shake" I mentioned we got earlier is sweet, but still a shake in the other sense as well!
But bloggie friends, I need some help with 2 issues:
1) We are considering the name "Fenway" after Fenway Park, of course. We're 2nd generation Red Sox (and T will make the 3rd gen) fans, so it seems fitting. Any other suggestions?
2) The girls aren't impressed. Arwen is trying unsuccessfully to dominate him with her usual bullying tactics and Nyxie is afraid of him all scared growls. Yup, my 80 lb GSD is terrified of a 26 lb muttling who won't get bigger than 30-40 lbs! Poor girl...There has been some snapping at one another, and integrating isn't going as smoothly as I 'd hoped. He has great calm energy. Any ideas or help?
Thank you, Loves!
FYI - interwebs are acting funny so pls be patient with me. I had to write this post from my phone!