ON ADOPTING A NEW DOG

"This one will be called a puppy, no matter how long he lives!" my veteranarian chuckled as he checked over our new adoption, Bo Jangles, a terrier/puddle cross. Bo is over one year old, so he's beyond chewing, and no peeing indoors, and he's quickly learning his new name and our new household.

Isn't spring just the best time to begin a new relationship? Each morning we march around the inside perimeter of our one acre. I wear my jammies, Brianna the black lab (3 yeard) wears her stunning evening black, Bo bounces along in his curly fringy beige and finally comes Oliver (11+ years) who is part basset hound and part blue healer. (Oliver doesn't cover all four rounds, but he loves being included when we arrive at his resting places.) Without reservation I visit with them about the changes each day brings to the ponderosas, the fruit trees and the gardens. They pay attention very little, especially around the ditch, which was a terror for Bo the first few days. Now he happily splashes behind Brianna, and emerges looking more ratty and less puppy!

Besides the dogs falling into cadence, the teens and pre-teens are harmonizing with Bo's always-curious personality and high energy. Can they resist petting him when his front paws are planted firmly on their legs? When should training start? They cannot resist his exuberance and unconditional welcoming when they return home! They can't be trained to insist he have have all four on the floor before petting takes place. And frankly, neither can I. Not right now, anyway. We'll get to that before winter. He has brought our generations closer together and his antics offer lively conversations full of appreciation and laughter. This is a major plus among three generations living together.

How did he end up with us? I take partial responsibility: I've been saying I wanted a "black mop" to be a companion for Brianna, but my intent was to wait until old beloved Oliver moves on. The rest of the responsibility rests with my daughter (and her daughters) who spotted him at the dog shelter, and then (slyly) brought my husband to see him before I did! That was underhanded and sneaky, but I couldn't blame them for designing such a fool proof plan once I laid eyes on him. He was a stray. We considered calling him "stray" but decided it might encourage the wrong behaviors. His previous "owners" trained him with the basics: no jumping on furniture, riding in the car without chewing, "sit" and making eye contact (endlessly). He arrived groomed and lived at the shelter 2 weeks without being claimed.

There were three other applications for him. One was eliminated immediately because they were going to keep him on a chain. Apparently our application was the best. It included a totally fenced big yard, another playmate, a second smaller fenced area as a back up, invitations to be in the house when were are home, and regular visits to the river (for the water crazed lab).

So my spring is full of energy, even when I'm slow in the mornings or tired from work. There are flowers to smell, dogs to play with, endless training activities, endless gardens to work in, and endless trails to hike with two enthusiastic four-leggeds who are always grateful for an outing. Oh, here's one now!