It’s been a tough weekend at our place. Joe keeps asking what he did wrong, and he doesn’t totally believe me when I say he did nothing wrong. Molly was tired, and sick, and it was her time to go.
And the little dog is acting nothing like himself. He’s not barking at the mailman. He’s not running in and out of the doggie door all day. He got a new toy on Saturday, and it’s still 100% intact, including the squeaker. He won’t snuggle with me, only with Joe, and he didn’t sleep with us. He’s not giving us kissies either, despite his title championship of Fastest Tongue in the West.
We were at the adoption center at PetSmart Saturday, and we found a lovely little girl. Her name is Emmy, and, like Scout, she’s a dachshund-lab mix. This particular agency doesn’t let you fill out the paperwork and take your new dog home. They actually call the vet’s office to make sure you’re a responsible pet owner. So they said we should hear something tonight, as they were going to call our vet today. We can’t imagine any reason they wouldn’t approve us, but in the off chance that happens, we will then go to the Humane Society and find a dog. It seems like Scout needs to have a companion even more than we do. Seeing him so unlike himself just breaks my heart.
