The past few weeks have been rough. I had to have Harriet put to sleep on Monday. As long as she was happy, I was willing to do whatever I could to keep her going. But then she had a particularly bad seizure, and a few days later a stroke. She was clearly miserable, so it was time to let her go. That was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
Being dogless was intolerable, to I went to the shelter on Friday and came home with Miss Frances. According to her intake papers, she’s 2 1/2 years old. My best guess is that she’s a Pit Bull x Boxer. She’s freaking adorable. One ear stands up taller than the other (the shorter ear has some scar tissue on the interior surface, from an old hematoma), which makes her extra appealing. She has a fabulous sense of humor, plays fetch and tug like it’s her job, snorts like a pig when she’s excited, takes treats gently, loves to cuddle, gives kisses, and has some basic obedience training (sit, down, and drop it). And, she chases cats. We’re working on that, and I’m hopeful that she’ll turn out to be cat-safe. The cats don’t seem at all concerned about her, which makes me think she doesn’t have evil intent. She just finds them irresistible.
red paper boat 