Without further ado, we’d like to introduce you to our new girl…
After a week, this is the best picture I’ve gotten of our little white floppy-eared scaredy-cat dog. Along with staircases, doors, and vacuum cleaners, she doesn’t like the big black camera. at. all. But I think there might be a smidgeon of hope, since she’s finally made eye contact with the thing. There are times when I am so very happy for fast shutter speeds!
We’ve spent a great deal of time on the floor this week, giving belly rubs, scratching ears, sharing secrets, and cuddling and lovin’ and all that fun stuff you do when getting to know a new family member. It’s so interesting comparing her arrival into the house with that of Barclay’s; what a difference kids can make. I thought the four of them might actually make Dolly’s transition a bit overwhelming, but it’s been quite the opposite of my expectation.
She adores them, and they her.
We’ve explained to the kids so many times how to slowly and gently approach her, how not to reach over her head or make eye contact or rush at her with open arms while yelling loudly. Wasted breath, every last bit of it. As we’ve removed over-zealous children from the object of their well-intended affection, not only do we get sad eyes from the kids, but Dolly makes reproachful glances our way as she runs right back into their arms for more.
The transition has been so much easier than we could have anticipated. Ten minutes to learn to sit; a sit-stay half way there with three more sessions. She has already applied the sit to the big ole waggy-jumpy hero’s welcome home, all on her own accord without a command when she realized it was the quickest way to get our attention, and has been doing it consistently for the past three days. You could have knocked me over with a feather the first time she did it.
Her rescue name was Dahlia. She was found on the side of a highway beside her sister who had been hit by a car. Her sister eventually had to have her leg amputated, but a home was found for the new tri-pawed very quickly. Our girl waited a few weeks for us to find her. We were going to call her June Carter Cash—Junie for short—as our good dear friends have just adopted an all black Great Dane named Johnny Cash, but it just didn’t stick. Dolly fits—it doesn’t hurt that her namesake musical is a particular seven year old’s favorite—so Dolly it is.
So… Hello Dolly… It’s so nice to have you here where you belong.