New Family Member
Somewhere in the midst of Shorty's illness he decided he wanted to get a dog. Apparently, he really misses our family dog, Geraldine Jones...who passed away in 1986. They've had a dog since then but I guess she didn't rate as high as Geraldine. (Yes, she was all black and named after the Flip Wilson character...and if you know who that is, you're old.)
So, Friday night they brought home a dog from the shelter. He's a mutt who mostly resembles a Miniature Doberman. They've named him Buddy.
Steven and I aren't calling him Buddy, though. My parents have a history of giving lame names to their pets. Geraldine was cool. The next dog, a Dingo, was called Calico. Oy, dumb name. Steven called her Callie and I called her Beast. Then, my Mom got a cat and named it Pumpkin. Pumpkin = another lame name. Steven decided we should call her Spartacus so he and I do. (We love That Thing You Do.) Clearly, we can't just accept Buddy so Steven and Garrison brainstormed and decided to call him Robocop.
I have to say, I didn't love the Robocop name. But now, I think it's funny because this dog is sooooo not Robocop. In fact, I think he's possibly the wussiest dog I've ever met. He wants to sit on one of my parents' laps at all times. He won't let anyone get near him to pet him and he looks terrified if you even move in his direction.
I spent 3 hours tonight trying to engage him. I fed him pork scraps from the table. I took him for a walk. I even tried feeding him treats. Apparently, he's got a pretty wide comfort zone. If I put a treat down 12 inches away from me, he won't get it. But, he stares at it like he desperately wants it and is just as desperately afraid to come get it. If I put the treat 18 inches away, he slinks in, grabs it then backs away before eating it. I finally got to pet him and he looked like he expected me to slash his throat the entire time.
I feel sad about it. The shelter figured he's about 2 years old. It makes me wonder what kind of environment he was in. Besides being afraid of people, he refuses to stay in the back yard for more than a minute. Not being a doggie psychiatrist, I can only guess that maybe his owners left him out all the time and never played with him so he doesn't know how to socialize.
With the abundance of affection he's going to get at my parents', I'm sure he'll get over his fears, though.
So, Friday night they brought home a dog from the shelter. He's a mutt who mostly resembles a Miniature Doberman. They've named him Buddy.
Steven and I aren't calling him Buddy, though. My parents have a history of giving lame names to their pets. Geraldine was cool. The next dog, a Dingo, was called Calico. Oy, dumb name. Steven called her Callie and I called her Beast. Then, my Mom got a cat and named it Pumpkin. Pumpkin = another lame name. Steven decided we should call her Spartacus so he and I do. (We love That Thing You Do.) Clearly, we can't just accept Buddy so Steven and Garrison brainstormed and decided to call him Robocop.
I have to say, I didn't love the Robocop name. But now, I think it's funny because this dog is sooooo not Robocop. In fact, I think he's possibly the wussiest dog I've ever met. He wants to sit on one of my parents' laps at all times. He won't let anyone get near him to pet him and he looks terrified if you even move in his direction.
I spent 3 hours tonight trying to engage him. I fed him pork scraps from the table. I took him for a walk. I even tried feeding him treats. Apparently, he's got a pretty wide comfort zone. If I put a treat down 12 inches away from me, he won't get it. But, he stares at it like he desperately wants it and is just as desperately afraid to come get it. If I put the treat 18 inches away, he slinks in, grabs it then backs away before eating it. I finally got to pet him and he looked like he expected me to slash his throat the entire time.
I feel sad about it. The shelter figured he's about 2 years old. It makes me wonder what kind of environment he was in. Besides being afraid of people, he refuses to stay in the back yard for more than a minute. Not being a doggie psychiatrist, I can only guess that maybe his owners left him out all the time and never played with him so he doesn't know how to socialize.
With the abundance of affection he's going to get at my parents', I'm sure he'll get over his fears, though.
