Two Saturdays ago we picked out a little doggie named Spike at the animal control shelter. We were excited when we found out that he would have surgery (get neutered) the next morning and that we could pick him up later that day. We went straight to PetSmart and Target to buy him a bed, collar and of course clothes. You can't have a dog without clothes, right? I began rolling up and storing away all of our carpets. Sunday morning we got a call from the shelter saying that Spike could not be adopted because he had a cough. Kenny was getting ready to watch a football game with some boys and I was getting ready to go shopping with my friend Amy. We were both devastated. I was horrible company for Amy and spent most of the shopping trip mopey. The phone call had been sort of cryptic and we were half-way worried that they were just going to not treat him and euthanize him or something. I had asked what was going to happen to him, and she just told me it was complicated and we should pick out another dog. We barely slept that night. The next night I picked up Kenny after work, and we went back to the shelter so that we could figure out what was going on. By then Spike had been diagnosed with kennel cough and was in isolation and receiving treatment. For some reason they couldn’t just call us when he was better. A nice man who worked there gave us his cell phone number and said we could call him every three days to check on Spike’s condition. Finally when Kenny talked to him this Tuesday we got good news. He said we could pick him up between five and six on Wednesday.
Spike’s new name is Leroy as he is from the South Side of Chicago, stands about six foot four, and is meaner than a junkyard dog. Kenny took off work early to go pick him up. We were told and assumed he’d be groggy from having had his balls cut off earlier that day. This was not the case. They think he is part beagle part Jack Russel.
He'd been home for about a whole half hour before I had to put clothes on him. In all fairness though, we keep the house barely above freezing.
Jack is of course a little mad about the whole situation. He has moved from anger to tolerance. Leroy keeps trying to teach Jack about playing. Many have tried this. None have succeeded. The picture below features the backsides of the THREE boys with whom I now live.
We're going to have to work on this whole "sleeping" thing. Leroy tried to sit on my head at 2 am, 4 am, and 6 am this morning. Also, there was a scuffle at some point that resulted in Jack being ejected from his spot next to my legs and being replaced by Mr. Brown. The excellent news is that so far there have been zero accidents in the house.
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