beginnings

i've been wanting a dog since i was a kid. my parents got me a dog when i was four or five. i don't really remember having him, but i know he was cute. my dad ended up giving him away a few months later to a friend of his at work that lived on a hobby farm. no one was ever home and the dog ended up destroying the plants and everything in his path. in hindsight, i suppose he was better off on a hobby farm with acres to roam rather than a 800 square foot house all by himelf. his name was sasha.

i always said when i moved out on my own, the first thing i would do was get a dog. it didn't quite happen that way. in fact, getting a dog was more or less the last thing i wanted to do. i realized it would hamper my freedom to be a swingin' single (not like that). i wouldn't be able to stay out after work and traveling on a whim would become out of the question. besides, the dog would be alone at home at least 10 hours a day. how fair is that?

a friend of mine at work has always encouraged me to look at the dog-option. she told me it would be the best thing that i had ever do and i wouldn't know a time when i didn't have a dog. i was skeptical.

she had tried to set me up a couple of times with a free dog, but for whatever reason, it never panned out. i called that kismet. she called it bad timing.

fast forward to two weeks ago. she tells me about this pomeranian that her breeder friend is thinking about giving away. the breeder had decided she needed to scale down her herd and was selling her dogs. of course, because i was a friend of a friend, she was willing to give her to me with the promise that i would spay the dog and buy the breeder a couple of bottles of wine for her troubles. i surprised myself when i agreed, although not without great hesitation and doubt.

fast forward to today. at 2pm, i picked her up from her home. she was visibly nervous when she was handed over to me and jumped out of my arms when i tried to put her in the kennel to take her home.

on the drive home, i could see her shaking in the kennel, looking at me with eyes that said "who the F are you and where are you taking me?"

when i got her home and let her out of the kennel, she ran around. she looked at me, then looked around and sniffed the air. then looked at me. every move i made towards her, she'd run in the other direction. at one point, she was in the kitchen and when i looked at her, she growled at me. i started to have my doubts.

that's when i decided to take the passive approach. i sat on the couch and started to watch a movie. within 30 minutes, she had trotted over to the far side of the couch and was peering up at me. five minutes later, she was sitting on my lap.

twenty minutes later, i decided that we had to reach another milestone so, after i cleaned up the pee i discovered on the carpet by the kitchen, i wrestled the leash on her and took her out for a walk. it was interesting, because she was more concerned with biting the leash than actually walking, but she warmed up to the idea once i got her outside and used to walking on pavement and grass. i think she may have even marked some spots (although she's so low to the ground, it's hard to tell whether she was squatting or just sitting).

it's going to be an interesting couple of weeks breaking her in. after that, who knows?

but i have to change her name. babs just isn't working for me.