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I managed to fix a computer problem on blogger all by myself. It’s a small thing but it’s nice to not have to yell for help at the small things. I’d like to save my tech staff for the big things, you know? First my cookie functionality was disabled. Fixed that. I’ve fixed that before. Then it couldn’t display page and couldn’t find the server. That’s a bigger problem, but I just kept plugging away trying this and that, until here I am typing to all of you.
First cup of tea in hand. Very good. Dogs fed. Good. Dogs barking at something. I can’t see anything. Less than peaceful. Pip has a very deep, big dog bark to match his black and scary exterior. Did you know that black dogs are less likely to be adopted than any other color from a shelter? What’s wrong with black? It’s one of my favorite colors. There was even an article on it in, I think, People Magazine, about a woman who’s started a movement to get people to not over look the black dogs. When we chose Pip there was another puppy that was in the running. She, which I would have preferred, we already had two male dogs and only one other female, was also yellow. The color made no difference to me, but I was aware that black dogs don’t always get adopted, so when they both passed their behavioral tests with flying colors I had to weigh on other issues. Two things swayed me. First, the female puppy was two weeks younger than Pip and nearly two inches taller at the shoulder. That is not a definite on how big she would have gotten, but still, we were already looking at pretty big puppies. Second, she was a golden yellow and I knew that was a color that people adopt faster. The only thing Pip had against him was that I wasn’t sure how our two boys would react to a third boy. But in the end we took our big, black, puppy, home. The blond puppy found a home very quickly, as I knew she would. If we hadn’t taken Pip he might still be there at the shelter and no matter how good a shelter is; and Granite City APA is pretty darn good which is one of the reasons they are one of our charities. That and the fact that they are one of the precious few no kill shelters in our area. But even Granite City is still a shelter. The dog still has no one to call their own. No home.
The thought of our big puppy behind a wire cage gazing out forlornly at the people that passed him by breaks my heart a little. But we didn’t pass him by, we brought him home. He’s our sixty pound lap dog. He’s the only dog I’ve ever owned that feels naked without a bandanna tied around his neck, his neckerchiefs. He’s not a perfect fit for us, or us for him. When I have him out he’ll see some svelte, muscled jogger go by us, and he’ll whine after them. He’d have probably done better with a more active owner. Though in the summer time the black fur builds up heat pretty fast. He’s way too smart for us. He needs a job or a serious hobby. But then, we could have done without the male boxer mentality of wanting to boss all the other dogs around. Or his occasionally bad attitude towards strange dogs. We’re all still a work in progress. My goal to get him more obedience work, and a hobby, as well as up my jogging skills. His goal to stop trying to be top dog, which is sort of hard since, well, he is. Though don’t tell our oldendogger, Jimmy, he still thinks he’s in charge.