Tuesday, February 28, 2012


Do Georgia fans stil ask, how bout them dawgs? I may have mentioned it a few times last fall when our local boys failed to best the team from Athens, and it may hve been somwhat alcohol fueled.

None of that is really the point, and neither dog representing either of the above teams is represented by my family and our doggie family.

The dogs all live with Momma, and two of the three are more hers in that she picked them herself. Or we could say that one of the three was part of the family since the old days, the in-the-closet time. She is now ten years old and is a small, black mix of unknown breeds.

Though Momma picked the next two dogs for herself I still accept my parentage duties. The first is just over three and was the runt of a litter of long haired chihuahuas. He is light brown with great white accents. The new guy is only almost eight weeks old now, and he already is almost twice the size of the smallest dog and close enough to our older girl in weight while already seming to tower over her a little.

This dog is near enough seventeen pounds according to the friend from whom he came. She found the mother on a local interstate, missing fur and emaciated and also, our friend learned soon enough, pregnant. The mom is also obviously a German shepherd, while the father is of course a mystery.

Looking at his big lovable face and his paws that are nearly half as big my hand gives you ideas of a father. We're thinking lab or pit bull as possible, but we can't really know. Either could be a great mix.

The humans in the family have all fallen for this growing beast of a dog, though the dogs are taking their time. They didn't seem to get the memo about the pack expansion, and they haven't quite decided how to take the news.

Our old lady seems concerned that she's going to miss out on something. She seems to know her place is secure, but that damn chihuahua is always a concern and often enough a pain in the ass for no obvious reason.

Of course the chihuahua is being exactly a chihuahua about it. He's the boss, and you better recognize his place in line. Of course he isn't the boss and is made to realize and forced to accept this often enough, but he'll be damned if any dog gets his place in the pack. He can't know that this usurper will soon be too big for the cute and cuddly place that only a darling little bit of a chihuahua can fill.

My own getting a dog is still a ways off. I would love to have a dog but don't really feel that my life at the.moment is any place for a dog. Perhaps soon enough I'll have figured some things out, but for now I have plenty to worry about helping the newest brute learn what "outside!" really means in doggish.

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