I went to see the pound puppy yesterday. I took Bubba along with me. I was the only one there to see her. Everyone else was waiting in line to see a litter of puppies. Typical. No one waits in line to adopt a five-year-old basset. I did not adopt her, either, it turns out, but not because of her age. I didn't really feel like we had a connection. The moment the kennel attendant let her out of her cage, she pulled like a train on the leash. She pulled so hard she broke the collar. Shades of Daisy. My Tizzy girl never did learn to walk on the leash without tugging, and I had the bursitis in my shoulders and chronic back pain to prove it.
I can certainly understand the little basset's eagerness to get the hell out of that cold, dirty place, and I'm sure she was distracted by her noisy, distressful surroundings. She dragged me out to the meet and greet area, but she was much more interested in smelling everything in sight than in interacting with me. That's the nature of a basset, of course, but she really just ignored me completely, which is not a good sign, in my opinion. I went out to get Bubba so he could meet her, anyway. I had reservations about bringing him into the facility, though. For one thing, he came from a pound, so I worried it might upset him. I was right. All the barking dogs were distressing to him and he kind of froze. And they say dogs don't have a good memory? His incarceration at the county pound was 9 years ago. He hasn't forgotten the experience. I was also a bit worried he might pick up kennel cough since he hasn't had a recent Bordatella vaccination. He's going tomorrow for one, but I hope it's not closing the barn door after the horse is out. I disinfected his paws when we got home.
They got along fine, but I decided to sleep on it before committing to another dog. However, I found out tonight on her Petfinder listing that they named her Daisy! She does look quite a lot like our dear old girl. I may go tomorrow for another look. Or not. Dog ownership is a lot like marriage--not to be entered into lightly or unadvisedly. The way marriages go these days, you could end up spending more time with that dog than with your spouse, so it's wise to choose carefully. After all, you could end up with a Marley or a Daisy.
I can certainly understand the little basset's eagerness to get the hell out of that cold, dirty place, and I'm sure she was distracted by her noisy, distressful surroundings. She dragged me out to the meet and greet area, but she was much more interested in smelling everything in sight than in interacting with me. That's the nature of a basset, of course, but she really just ignored me completely, which is not a good sign, in my opinion. I went out to get Bubba so he could meet her, anyway. I had reservations about bringing him into the facility, though. For one thing, he came from a pound, so I worried it might upset him. I was right. All the barking dogs were distressing to him and he kind of froze. And they say dogs don't have a good memory? His incarceration at the county pound was 9 years ago. He hasn't forgotten the experience. I was also a bit worried he might pick up kennel cough since he hasn't had a recent Bordatella vaccination. He's going tomorrow for one, but I hope it's not closing the barn door after the horse is out. I disinfected his paws when we got home.
They got along fine, but I decided to sleep on it before committing to another dog. However, I found out tonight on her Petfinder listing that they named her Daisy! She does look quite a lot like our dear old girl. I may go tomorrow for another look. Or not. Dog ownership is a lot like marriage--not to be entered into lightly or unadvisedly. The way marriages go these days, you could end up spending more time with that dog than with your spouse, so it's wise to choose carefully. After all, you could end up with a Marley or a Daisy.
posted by Sue @ 9:36 PM
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