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WAIT. wHAt?

26 July 2016, 08:00

You got to be kidding me.

You got to be blue danube fucking kidding me.

So. Dog Drama. Yes. I have a lot of it.

Recapping QUICKLY. Hurley the Horrible, a stray himself, didn’t like Lila, the giant puppy stray we just found. The situation was scary enough, that chorus of “We need to get rid of that dog” filled the air from [[[ahem]]] people/persons that live in my house. Intense pressure was put upon your dear author to FIND SOMEPLACE FOR THIS DOG. Sweet, injured, giant puppy needs a home, okay… I’m on it. Through the fretting and crying and what-not, I emailed and called and posted about this dog – first looking for it’s owner, then looking for a foster/forever family.

THREE DAYS of increasingly addled and insane begging and babbling on my part, culmating in a little blubbering nutty I had Monday morning at work. Monday I started to morph from basketcase to pissed off, since all the good ideas I had for homes and situations got shot down and covered in red tape. Deals I was willing to do with shelters and humane societies were just dismissed outright. I was offering bucketloads of cash I couldn’t afford to organizations I didn’t know. For all I knew, they were laboratory harvesters who funneled dogs to corporate research facilities. I understand there is a need for medical research, but I’ll be damned if I let my dog get 300ccs of Right Guard shoved up her butt to see if its safe for humans.

FINALLY. Pawmetto Lifeline offered to take a bunch of my money to take in my dog, and possibly get her adopted.

I had let Doug know that Friday they could take her, thought I needed to get her shots and pay them a big chunk of change.

“We have to pay for shots and keep her for a week?”

JESUS JESUS JESUS.

So, we were sitting there watching TV, I was babbling on about Pawmetto and what sort of organization it was, when Doug piped up:

“Well. Hurley wasn’t aggressive towards her today.”

WHAT THE BLUE FUCK?

Well. Didn’t matter. She’s going to Pawmetto. Let’s not sit there and tease me like that. Don’t you realize how much I’m attached to this dog? All this was going through my head. I only said the Pawmetto thing to Doug.

“All I’m sayin’ is she came in here and all he did was look up…”

More TV watching.

Well, do you want me to see if he’s still wanting to kill her?

“It’s up to you. I don’t care if the dog stays, as long as they get along.”

WHA. But you yammied about this ALL weekend. I was borderlining that thin edge between nervous breakdown and fetal position self comforting…

No. I didn’t say that. More TV watching.

“You know, I saw her running in the backyard.”

Okay. Where are you going with this? I said this with my mind.

More TV watching.

“She was a good dog. She came over and sat by me.”

OH CHRIST ON A CRACKER.

DO YOU WANT ME TO SEE IF THEY CAN BE IN THE SAME ROOM TOGETHER?

“Well. I don’t know. He wasn’t aggressive with her today.”

OMG. OKAY. Well, we can try it. Really didn’t want to get my hopes up.

So. I cracked the door. And let the two dogs see each other. There was no Hurley aggressiveness, that was true. His hackles weren’t up. He occassionally wagged his tail (which, actually, doesn’t mean SHIT. Folks, if a dog wags its tail, it does NOT mean “boy I love you and I sure won’t bite you”. ALWAYS be careful around dogs, especially ones you don’t know). He still was intensely watching her. Lila had changed a bit from the first day, she was holding her head and tail higher, she was more confident and displayed almost no cowering. She and Hurley touched noses. OMFG. You could have made me fall over with a push of your finger. I praised Hurley and loved on him for not being some monsterous murdering fiend. Throughout the evening I repeated this exercise and everytime, Hurley didn’t bite at the door or snap at her… through the crack of the door, mind you.

Doug’s actually saying positive things like “I’m not seeing him being aggressive…”

So. I said, “Well, I’m positive that it will get better and they can coexist like he does with the others. It’s just going to take time and some work and effort from you since I’m at work…”

dougmummbledougmummble.

WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

louderdougmumblemumble

WHAT? I COULDN’T HEAR YOU

I SAID, I’LL TRY TO HELP.

“Well you also are going to have to take her potty and still do the separate rooms for a while, can you do that?

moredougmummbledougmummble.

WHAT DID YOU SAY?”

I SAID YES, I’LL DO THE POTTY ROOM THING.

Men surprise me. Doug doubly so.

So. As it stands now, Pawmetto is still on at the end of the week, but we are going to watch them for the next couple of days. If Hurley really is getting better with her, then…. she’s my dog. I feel embarrassed and bad if this works out that I get to keep her. All the people who I pestered, all the people (Chasing Tails Pet Patrol) who gave a huge effort in helping me find a solution, I’m so sorry for maybe, wasting your time.

This morning, I cracked the door of the computer room where she sleeps and let Hurley see. They touched noses again, he wagged his tail slightly and I think she licked the tip of his snoot.

I don’t know what any of this means. I’m not sure if Hurley has concocted a plan to lull us into a false sense of security, bide his time, and when we all think things are copacetic, he can carry out his fiendish plot and murder this dog. Or he’s getting better at dealing with this.

He’s really sweet but thick as a plank so I’m not sure.

I’d give a thousand dollars for a dog behavorist to tell me what’s going on right about now.

And I’m seriously thinking about some therapy for my weird attachment to dogs.

(an ironic blast from the past…)