Here We Go...

Three weeks ago we thought someone was breaking into our house at ten o'clock at night. Turns out it was a dog begging (clawing, scratching, crying...) to get into the house. Have I mentioned I'm not a pet person? Even our pet beta croaked last month. We did not feed this poor dog because we knew, of course, that if we fed her, she would never go away.

She stayed on the front porch all night. At 2:00 a.m. my husband tried to chase her away. She was still there the next morning and obviously had no plans to go anywhere. My pet-loving friend came over and helped me get the dog to the County Animal Shelter. And when I say "helped me" I pretty much mean she did it all herself. I signed the paper.

However, through the process we began to notice what a nice dog she was. She was gentle with kids, technically still a puppy, but way past the obnoxious stage, and very timid. We began thinking the unthinkable...should we adopt her? We have one son who is scared to death of dogs, and one who loves them so much he has no common sense around them. They both wanted to keep her.

The Shelter had to hold her for three business days, which landed on a Wednesday. We called to check on her and they said she had been a good dog and was adoptable. We were going to be gone for the entire weekend, so we decided to wait and see if she was still there on Monday when we got back. Plenty of time for a nice family to come along and give her a good home.

Monday came and it soon appeared like we were going to be that nice family. The boys were elated, and I was a bit skeptical. The first three days were great. She would come to us, let us pet her, put her collar on her, and take her for walks. We thought we had adopted the best pet in the entire world. Then she turned into a teenager.

Overnight it seemed as if she decided to love kids and hate adults. She is still great with the boys, but runs from us. Even when we offer her food, she'll stretch waaayyyy out to grab it, and then run. She's not a big self-esteem booster.

Then on day six she ran away. Apparently we have a couple of loose fence boards - or she created a couple of loose fence boards - we're not exactly sure which. We had a few tragic hours at our house, but in the evening she came back. At least she knows not to bite the hand that feeds her. Run -- yes. Bite -- no.

And so the saga continues. Love the kids, snub the nose at the adults and make us feel like idiots. Our only consolation...we should be well prepared for adolescence.