It happened quicker than I thought. Our newly adopted child, Charlie, has taken over the house. He's 4 years old, black and brown and weighs ten pounds. We think he's mostly Cairn, with a bit of Schnauzer and other stuff thrown in. He's jet black. This is good because nobody wants a pooch with white privilege. I'm pretty sure he has no Native American blood but only because I haven't see him carry around an arrow quiver. Charlie's former owner is my son's boss. His boss is about to get married and his future wife has her own doggy. Charlie was the odd man out.
From the get go our lil' pal glommed onto The Queen. Wherever she went he followed. Me? Not so much. We've had two other friends, females, come to the house. Charlie jumps into their laps immediately. As for men there's a definite warm-up period.
Charlie is a guard dog. If there's the most minute noise outside he'll go into the barking stage. This will continue until he's satisfied the Manson family isn't trying to get in the condo. I looked up their history and traced it to Old England. They are experts in capturing small rodents. Hey, we can say good-bye to the chipmunks that ravage our yard. And as for the mice indoors------It'll be fun watching Charlie toy with them.
Charlie likes to cuddle. He'll lie in my lap for an hour as long as I rub his belly. When he tires of this he'll hunt up his colored rope and demand we play tug of war.
I think we're going to like this little guy. He's a keeper.
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