Then a couple of weeks ago, I visited some friends at the Oregon Coast, and they have two purebred Bernese Mountain dogs. My friends wanted me to bring Roxanne so they could all play. I hesitated. Roxanne tends to be a little timid. Her two or three outings to an off-leash dog park proved to be semi-successful. She'd play for a while with the others, but they were strangers and some of those dogs play pretty rough. She'd end up standing behind me and watching. But I took her along anyway to meet the Berners and she did very well. They had fun, everyone was playful but mellow. We proud parents drank a lot of wine. So then I thought . . .
Well, you know what I thought.
Maybe Roxanne would do well with a playmate here. I spend a lot of time here at the computer and thought she might like some company of her own species. So I contacted the rescue coordinator again and made arrangements to choose her buddy.
All the dogs, about 10 of them, stank to high heaven after their five-day trip in the heat from Houston. I mean really PEE-YEW. Once I got Jackson—and these events are a chaos of people, tired, nervous dogs, and tangled leashes—we drove directly to the DIY dog wash near my house. The guy who brings them up here in a livestock trailer tries his best but conditions are difficult, especially at this time of year. So Jackson, who has a longer coat than Roxanne, had some nasty mats on his hind end. Again, really PEE-YEW. I did my best to cut them off with a pair of dull scissors they had at the bathing station but I couldn’t get everything. I stank too but had to wait till I got home to take a shower. The $20 fee covered only him, no tag-alongs.
So now I have Jackson. He’s much bigger than Roxanne by about 30 pounds, and a lot more mischievous, curious, and determined. He figured out his way into the laundry room, despite bungee cords and other tripwires, where I keep the cat box. The cat is hiding under my bed again. He’s tall enough to table/counter surf and grab things from higher surfaces. I found a lipstick on the living room floor this morning when I came downstairs.
So that’s the non-writing news for now. I think I did a good deed, but I’ll feel better about it once I’m rested again. In about three months.