Foxy Lady

This.

This right here is the new love of my life.

No, she’s not mine, never will be but that doesn’t make me love her any less. And it doesn’t mean that she can’t shed her unconditional love on us either. She’ll be with her Dad before we know it but in the meantime I have the pleasure of being one of her caretakers.

Week 1:

We’ve settled into a good routine. Dave runs them almost every day and I try to get five walks in a week so she’s getting plenty of exercise. Zeke and Poppy tried eating each others food at first (the grass is always greener, isn’t it?) but now they’ve accepted the fact that they’re stuck with their boring ole food. When they’re done eating they’ll switch places and lick each other’s bowl (you never know if there’s a stray crumb just layin’ around). They also drink out of each other’s water bowl. I wonder why? Sometimes they drink out of the same bowl at the same time. I wonder why?

You done yet?

Poppy is one of the sweetest dogs I’ve gotten to know. She has the sweetest temperament…she’d make a great therapy dog. She follows you around everywhere and here I thought Zeke was needy. I gave her a bath as she felt just a tad bit dirty (I hate petting dogs and then having a dirty, residue-y feeling on my hand…just a personal thing). Now she gets pets all the time. Which leads me to Zeke’s jealousy issues. He’s progressed in a week however he was pretty jealousy when we first got her. These two know each other well and get along exceptionally but if Poppy is getting any sort of “special” attention, Zeke is right there too in no time. Oh, and our neighbors. If they’re at the fence petting Poppy, Zeke will have none of that, he has to squeeze in there too as if to say “these are my peeps”. I try to keep the love and attention equal (how do people do it with kids?).

Even though Poppy is more than twice the age of Zeke, she has way more energy. She is always the one to instigate a play session and even then sometimes I have to encourage Zeke to play. Maybe he’s just being a gentleman. Doubtful. Oh, B.S. (we need to talk about your initials by the way) when I took her to get a bath (which she did very well in receiving it) one of the staff members told me that Chow mixes live a long time. The owner of the store had a Chow mix and she lived to be 17 and she told me of someone else she knew that had a Chow mix that lived a long time (can’t remember exactly how old). I had no idea and not sure if you knew that or not but thought I’d share. :) That’s probably why she’s so spritely for being at least 10 years old. She’s just getting started…

We went for a play date to Oliver’s house. Ollie is a Cavalier King Charles and Poppy was enamored with him. Ollie, on the other hand, is a little scaredy cat and kept hiding between my feet and stayed on the couch. In the meantime, Zeke and Poppy were up to their old shenanigans on steroids. They hardly took a break from playing with each other.

Oh, one other thing I noticed about Poppy (besides the growth on her eyelid which I desperately want to take her to the vet to a) find out what it is, b) find out if it’s harmful, and c) get it removed. But she’s not mine so I won’t mettle. Oh, back to the other thing, she HATES getting her picture taken. You may laugh but I’m not kidding…when I pull the camera out and point it at her she turns and walks, sometimes runs away. I’ve tried picking up other things (i.e. a shiny mug) and do not get the same reaction as I do with the camera. I used to joke that Zeke didn’t like getting his picture taken because inevitably he turns his head when I snap a shot but Poppy has taken it to a whole new level. It’s uncanny. So what you see on this post is not me taking bad pictures, it’s Poppy in her truest form. B.S. – do you experience the same thing or is it just me??

Another story about Poppy that Dave just told me…if you say the “f” word really loud she runs away. When you have a house full of guys playing video games, you can imagine that that word is used quite often. So that’s how Poppy has managed to stay so skinny all these years! I want to try it for shits and giggles but I don’t want to traumatize the poor dear. I’m sure within the next two weeks, that word will loudly come from Dave’s potty mouth. Just sayin’.

Look at this sweet girl.

Then there's my boy. All covered in leaves and stuff. Riff-raff. Pfff.

Till next week...