|surprise plot twist
||[Nov. 22nd, 2016|10:46 pm]
sprockets, sockets, grommets & gaskets
So, yeah, Lily the terror of the neighborhood, gone.|
It was awful.
We cried and then we cried some more.
manintheboat said "now what do we do?"
I suggested going for a walk or something, just to go do something, and then said "so let's go to some local animal shelters."
Denver's animal shelters are barren.
The one where we adopted Lily had like five dogs, all small.
The one nearest downtown had maybe six dogs.
One south of downtown had maybe 18 dogs, including one cute female beagle/terrier mix that was a sweetie and beautiful, but shy, jumpy, clearly had been abused, had ear infections, had a huge gash on her leg where they'd just removed a tumor that they weren't yet sure was benign or malignant.
We drove over to Aurora.
They had maybe twelve dogs, most chihuahua mixes, with three large dogs.
One of them was named Freckles.
She was this enormous American Bulldog.
And we hung out with her and talked to the people who had walked her, who were all "I love that dog."
She'd been abandoned, in a way: found as a stray and her owners refused to take her back.
She's three, she knows how to sit and stay, she's food-motivated, and seems to learn stuff quickly.
We talked about it for quite a while, but ended up bringing her home.
She's not a Lily replacement. She's a very different dog: bigger, so much younger, probably not as smart, but a lot happier. (I think that the year Lily spent in the pound really tore her up in some ways. This dog was in a shelter for 10 days, and apparently had a pretty good life previously to that.)
We're calling her Montmorency, after the awful little terrier in Jerome K Jerome's book, Three Men In A Boat.
I hope we made the right decision. I think we did.