Michael "Dog3" wrote:
> Kathleen > news:Ua8Cl.4938$9t6.1888
> @newsfe10.iad: in rec.food.cooking
>
>> Maybe your Maltese was what you needed, when you needed him. Maybe
>> another boxer this soon would have been forever "NotMissy", but Scraps
>> gets to be just Scraps.
>
> Ohhhh... I must have not been clear in my posts. Missy was a border
> collie, not a Boxer. I've always wanted a Boxer. When it comes to
> Scraps, I think it was just the opposite. I think we were what he needed
> when he needed us, not the opposite ;-) He's a cutie and we love him.
> It takes a bit of getting used to having a puppy though.
>
>
>> Objectively, circumstances being what they are, I can't say I think
>> piling another soul into the lifeboat is a great idea. But here he is.
>> And maybe things work out as they are supposed to.
>
> Are you talking about your ehem... granddog or my Scraps? I've got
> plenty of room in the lifeboat but I think Scraps is just about the last
> passenger to be invited in for awhile. I think both you and I have enuf
> critters at this point Personally I wouldn't have it any other way.
>
>
>> Anyway, Floyd's a border collie, or at least a border collieoid. And
>> I'm not mourning a recent loss and can appreciate him for what he is
> and
>> what he isn't.
>
> Good luck ;-) You'll all do fine.
>

I'm reading this while my very own six-month old Mickey Charles is
running in and out of the room making me nuts. This dog does not know
how to walk. He runs. We refer to him as "the beige flash"

He is currently a little nuts because his daddy left with another dog.
We had a skinny, sweet Pit Bull gal come to our house. We fed her and
called the animal people only to learn that they don't do anything on
weekends. She took up "residence" on our front door mat.

We put some food and water out for her by the road and she gobbled it
up then came back to the front door. We had to go out with our neighbors
so we went out via the garage and we brought back some dinner scraps for
her but she was gone.

About an hour later someone in a pickup truck comes by and they have
her. DH says she is not ours but we had been feeding her. The lady with
the truck drops her off. Now we have her back. No one from the county or
the Humane Society will come until tomorrow and we can't take her in as
we have to think of our own little guy. Even putting her in the garage
is a risk since the puppy is really good at squirting through the
smallest door opening and corralling him isn't easy when he is hyper as
he is now.

DH volunteers at the Humane Society so he knows about the cages they
have outside for drop offs. He has one of the looping leashes that they
use at the shelter to walk the dogs (that's what he does). He tries to
get the gal into the Honda Civic, but she wants no part of being
enclosed. He gets her into his Mustang convertible but is worried that
she will jump out. She does.

We get the neighbor to ride shotgun with the dog on a leash in the back
seat with a plastic container of kibble. They are on their way to the
Humane Society.

Mickey has now settled down at my feet. I think he wore his little self out.

--
Janet Wilder
way-the-heck-south Texas
spelling doesn't count
but cooking does