The Dog Days of Spring - Part 1

If you read my previous post, you got a hint about the importance, in my life, of companion dogs. In particular my last post was a chance for me to grieve "out loud" and remember a fallen friend and part of his story.

What a difference seven weeks makes.

Two weeks after we lost Calvin we met, on a whim (ok, maybe a slightly vodka-fueled whim), a dog in foster care named Willow. She was a Shar-pei who'd had a rough time of it, was super skinny, missing patches of hair from being infested with ticks, and was about to be taken back to the shelter from whence she would be trucked to Albuquerque with several other hopefuls to participate in an adoption fair. Well, since my friend didn't play fair by showing me Willow's pic and inviting her foster dad to bring her over, I also put the rule book way and called my husband to bring himself and my six-year old daughter over too. If I was going into this fray, I wasn't going alone. All was well, Willow was not particularly interested in any of us, but rather in sniffing every single inch of my friends' house. I thought "oh, another day saved, no new dog" when suddenly Willow sat perfectly still for my daughter while she pet her and then, the coup de gras; Willow came over to me and licked my face. I looked at the foster dad and asked him if he had paid the dog to do that. You see, I am a sucker for, 1) a sad story, 2) a cute face, and 3) almost any mammal. Nevertheless, we thanked them all and went home to discuss. "Sweet dog." "Yeah she seems young." "Did you see how she was with Nora?" "Really sweet dog." You get the drift. Our defenses, however, were still holding fast.

I arranged to meet the dog at the local dog park so she could meet our two. That would be the kicker - no way she would get along with the big guy and the cranky little man. To say I was mistaken wouldn't be quite fair to me. Actually she seemed to get along with all the dogs there that day. Time was ticking until she had to be back at the shelter, so David and I walked off to consider it all. We struggled. We thought she was darling, but were we ready for a third dog so very soon? The answer became clear when she came barreling across the park to be with us at the bench. Thirty minutes later we were at the shelter adopting, Mei-Mei. And yes, I had named her the night before when I met her--is that a problem?

So, back in the house with three dogs once again. OK. I did, however, break my cardinal rule concerning pets (and my stepsons will laugh if they ever read this)- I didn't do a shred of research on Shar-peis before we took her. For those of you, who like me, are new to the breed, here is the quick and dirty lowdown. Sharpies (my term) are smart, loyal, STUBBORN, independent, and strive to be the dominant dog (swell!). If planning to mix Sharpies with other dogs, do it when they are puppies so you can positively socialize them (sigh). They are fiercely loyal and may seem aggressive to strange people or dogs.  They also always make some kind of noise: snorts, snores, rumbles, this odd musical airy whine that sounds like a cross between Hannibal Lecter's hiss and and the opening clarinet notes from Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue. They slurp, growl, bark, moan,  rumble and smack their considerable lips. Oh yeah, they are also, I believe from my extremely limited experience, as close to kissing a walrus as I will ever come.Oh my. Well, too late because we were in love.

Mei-Mei after a month of good food and lots of love.

And so began the Lattin Wars. Mei-Mei jumped the dominant dog (who has 20 pounds on her) every chance she got, even though the outcome was always  that she got the crap beat out of her. Now, before you imagine illegal dog-fighting in the living room, you must know that Mei only ever got little nips - lots of them, but little nonetheless. I kept a supply of antiseptic and cotton on hand and she healed remarkably well. Later, taking Mei-Mei to the vet and talking to her about the wars, I was told that Sharpies have remarkable healing abilities, I suppose because they were originally bred for fighting...although fighting what, I have no idea-dragons?

Jump ahead two weeks-yeah, I know, you thought this was months in the making didn't you? David, Nora and I are driving to the Albuquerque airport to pick up Tripod, my brother and sister-in-law's dog who was being shipped from the Yucatan to...us! Yes, I had agreed a few months back to take her if she didn't find a home. Turns out that, speaking extremely generally, the locals (not expats) don't have a fondness for "street dogs" (read: mutts). So Tripod's only real chance was to come to the States. Remember the three things above for which I am a sucker? Tripod had apparently been injured as a baby and tended to favor her rear leg, hence her name. But, new life seemed to demand a new name (and she has only favored the leg when it got cold-which, if you are from the Yucatan is probably 65 degrees). This time it was Nora's turn to name the pup and after looking at her mostly white fur with  spots on her skin below that looked purple, you guessed it (probably not) her name is now Grapes.

Grapes - and no, she doesn't have cataracts.

Grapes is the polar opposite of Mei-Mei. She is sweet, uber-affectionate, doesn't care who is dominant, BUT is not to be jumped by some lost/abandoned dog from northern new Mexico.After all, she is a street dog  from the homeland, baby! She too, has routed Mei-Mei without getting a scratch on her. Grapes sleeps with our six-year old, leans her face and entire body into us to be loved and is a little lady who loves to be with us and soft beds and cool grass.

And then there were four.. Blue has now found a kindred spirit in Mei-Mei who has just as much energy as he does and wants to play all the time. Mei is learning "no bite" because she tends to nibble on our bare feet when she wants to play. Baci, as the elder statesman, is pretty much left alone to wonder about the demise of his peaceful kingdom, and Grapes wants to cuddle and occasionally toss a pillow around. There are still the occasional tussles, but without blood and mostly to remind Mei-Mei that she is NOT the boss. Feeding time is the biggest challenge because of the mix of personalities and degrees of food aggressiveness. "Everybody done? Bowls up!". .

People laugh and look at me as if I am a bit insane taking on so much, but in truth, we can't imagine our lives without any of them at this point. Mei-Mei is my little squishy face (have you seen Shar-peis?) or drooly face if she has had a drink. My husband  loves Grapes so much that if he ever left me it would probably be for her. Blue has stepped up into Calvin's role and is growing into the handsome man of the house. And Baci, well he was, is, and will always be my little fella.

Things were moving along well when, for no apparent reason, Baci started vomiting blood, Blue was diagnosed with heart worm, and Grapes licked her skin almost to the bone in some places with the fervor of a zealot; all within two weeks.


Stay tuned for Part 2, aka The Cone, the Calm and the Big Mystery.