Fuzzy logic.

Last Wednesday, we came home to find that someone had broken into our house, stolen a large flat-screen TV, a smaller flat-screen, blue-ray DVD player, and Baboo's laptop.  They damaged the door frame kicking it in.
We have a ridiculously high deductible, so it's unlikely we'll be able to replace everything right now.

If you're having a bit of dejavu, so was I: my car was broken into about 3 weeks ago and no, I don't know if the are related or some random bad karma landed on me.  

Suffice to say that between my unemployment the last 1/3 of last year, and these two break-ins, and the IRS recently deciding that we owe them just a bit more (couple of grand) money, it's been a difficult first part of the year.  Very discouraging.  We needed some fuzzy love.

So we went to the Humane Society and adopted a pair of dogs.  We figured that between an alarm company and unconditional love, we'd go with the latter.  And here is the result: two 7-month-old very wiggly pups, unrelated, both surrendered by their respective owners.  They were in the same cage together, so we figured they must get along.

This is Chloe --

Chloe is a spayed female lab/pit mix.  She likes tennis balls, rawhide bones, and trail runs.  She's the slightly less hyper of the two.  Her current goals are to eat, sleep, wiggle, and stay off the couch.  Well, maybe that's my goal.
But I'm going to make it hers.






-- This is Jake.  

Jake is a neutered heeler/shepherd mix.
As such, he nips and mouths people and is a bit hard to run with, because he wants to herd everyone.
Amazingly, he also likes rawhide bones, tennis balls, and trail runs.  His legs are not that short.  I just photographed him from above.  His goals are to wiggle, eat, sleep, and stop using his mouth on everyone so much.  (Again, my goal.  NO BITE!!!)

Jake, I've decided, needs a bandana.  .

(Oh, and the cats, Hissy and Lily, would like a word with me later on about these latest additions to the household.)

We ran with them this morning. It's the fastest I've ever done this loop, about 2.6 miles behind our house.  Jake just about pulled me up the hill, and he's not very big yet.  The top of his back is about mid thigh to me We're going to condition the doggies until they are able to handle long distances and carry their own food. Meanwhile, I had no time to stop and have a panic attack, because I was busy trying to stay upright and not be pulled down a sandy, bouldery hill.

They have a nice big backyard to roam around in, as we have about 1/3 of an acre, and a nice big pond full of nice fresh running water.  Mmmmm, says Jake.   WILD water.  We also have a nice clean dry shed that Baboo is, at this moment, installing a doggie door in.  Now they have room, shade, shelter, water...no other pound puppy had it so good in their forever home.  Baboo, as you can imagine, is wildly excited about all of this, himself loving all things smallish, and furry.

I'm not used to being around dogs.  I had a dog once, but not for very long, and all I can remember is pure neediness.  I didn't remember the constant expectation that seems to be present, as Chloe and Jake follow me everywhere, that I must be about to do something wonderful and/or exciting.  I must be!  Why else would I be walking somewhere!  OMG, SOMETHING EXCITING MUST BE ABOUT TO HAPPEN!!! IT MUST BE.  IT MUST BE!!!
or I imagine that's what they must be thinking, because whenever I go anywhere, inside and out, they scamper around me, leaping up and down, occasionally jumping up to lick a hand.   Then I sit down, and then they try to leap up on me some more, but eventually yawn, and sack out.

I will have to run with one of them every morning at least a mile or two, and again in the evening.  No ifs, ands, or buts.  Otherwise, poop will ensue.  If the threat of poop doesn't get my out of bed and on my feet, I don't know what will.

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