Sock Signals

I was brought presents this morning, one of the Hubs' socks, and then another. Sam must stash them somewhere so she can send me sock signals when it's time to go outside for a squirt.  LOL!

She's got personality plus, this dog. She is doing really well off the leash (so long as you've got a little hand full of food or treats to refocus her priorities.) But she's still a jumper and that is a concern. The dog newsletters say adolescence is the hardest phase, and we're smack in the middle of that, so maybe a refresher course at 4 Paws U is needed. 

For Us.

On top of that, an op came up last night to possibly rescue another little labby-mix dog about Sam's size and temperament. That is the biggest news, ever. Will it change her, and us, and the routines we have now? 

Is there ever a perfect time to introduce a new dog?  Maybe it's like having children, more about a willingness to adapt to the changes than waiting for some magic moment to arrive.

Can we afford it? Do we need it? Can we manage it?

We're off the cuff people. A little puppy wanders into our email and we swoop down and turn our lives inside out and upside down in the most amazing ways. We are head over heels - with the wet breakfast kisses and 24/7 play mode. 

I can't believe the person who wants a goat and a sheep and - hello- a horse is a little apprehensive.  How will we manage two dogs without a run or garage?  Will they mind off the leash and be safe in an unfenced yard? How will they get on?  Will life morph into Thing One and Thing Two as destructo,  trouncy Tiggerdogs?

My brave friends say  just! do! it!  Dog pals make for a happier, longer life. So off we go with eyes closed and counting to three ... somewhere we had better never run out of treats.