The pup has arrived! We went to pick her up yesterday at the rescuer's house in Jersey. After a few minutes of playing with her, I asked QB if he liked her, to which he answered, "I don't like her. I love her." Mopsy was enthralled at first sight as well.
But the poor thing was terrified when we got her home. She burrowed herself in the bushes and shook. She wasn't even interested in a porterhouse steak bone that we saved for her. Jarvis, ever understanding and compassionate, pronounced her L-A-Z-Y lazy. It was even more amusing that he delivered this analysis from his perch on the couch.
We had all settled on the name Butterscotch, but Isabelle, her first name, seems to have stuck. Unsurprisingly, when we call out "Butterscotch!" she has no idea we're talking to her. So apparently, Isabelle it is.
Today, she's been much more playful and active. She even ventured far enough away to poop on the neighbor's lawn. Oh goody. The fun begins.
1 comment:
OK, OK. I read the posts in reverse order, recommending that you shoot the dog before I saw the pictures and read the bit about how QB doesn't like her, he loves her, and now I'm thinking you can't shoot the dog. Maybe you could send it to a farmer's house or something.
Post a Comment