It's Day 2 with our new rescue. I have to be honest when I tell you I haven't fully committed to permanent adoption. The both of us, she and we, are trying to decide if this is going to be permanent.
Her given name was Cookie. I originally decided to call her Charlotte or Char for short. The name of Cookie makes her sound like a bimbo or so I thought. I was talking to The Queen about dogs and how I don't like the purebreds. I told her cookie cutter breeds don't do it for me so she said, "Why not name her Cutter?" So, that'll be it----------if we decide to keep her.
One of my personal problems in dealing with this pooch is I compare what she does or doesn't do with the actions of our Charlie. This isn't right. Children are different. Dogs are different. What I can tell you right now is Cutter isn't nearly as intelligent as was Charlie. When we got our little guy a few years ago I put a stair step next to the bed so he could easily get up and down. It took him seconds to figure it out. Cutter is still working on it. It took nine seconds for Charlie to figure out how to go up and down the stairs. For Cutter it was a day and a half. That's okay, though. Some people learn arithmetic in five minutes. I'm still working on it.
I emailed a dear friend in North Carolina last night about our new found friend and I came to the conclusion I'm being too hard on Cutter. She's listless, sleeps a great deal. She doesn't look me in the eye. Her head is pointed toward the floor. In other words, she seems sad. Then it hit me. This pooch was found by the Portsmouth Ohio police around the age of six weeks behind their department. This was five years ago. Almost immediately she was adopted by two elderly people. Three weeks ago the last of these two passed away and 'Cutter' was placed in a shelter inside a cage. A rescue company out of Columbus heard about her and sent me a photo with minimal background. Sometimes, I'm slow on the uptick but I began thinking, "What if this was me?" How happy would I be?
I've read quite a bit about dog in the past few years and one thing I learned is that dogs grieve for their owners. Dogs, like people, get depressed. Our Cutter has known only two people in its entire life and all of a sudden its been thrust into a new home with new people. My suspicion is Cutter is still going through the grieving process. She's trying to figure out what happens next. She's in a new home with new sounds and new experiences. I need to cut her some slack.
Today, while walking her, I noticed her gate was somewhat quicker. When she saw Her Majesty this morning she jumped up on her hind legs; tail wagging. The Queen fed her breakfast and just like Charlie she ran back upstairs and jumped in bed with me after her meal was finished. I only have one concern at this time. Cutter is fat. Her weight should be around 20 to 25 pounds. She's closer to 36 pounds but I'm assuming her elderly owners didn't get her out much for exercise.
I'd have to say at this point Cutter will remain with us but I haven't come to that conclusion 100%. What would solidify it is if when I woke up tomorrow morning she was looking at me with those puppy dog eyes holding a sign reading: 'Won't you love me'? Yep! That'd do it.
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