My 3 Dogs

The weather's been pretty chilly here lately; getting down near freezing at night which means the dogs--all three of them--have been in the house...a lot.  They are driving me crazy and I have no one to blame but myself.  

"Why three?" I can hear a sane person ask.  On a day like today, when they're all inside driving me nuts, I have no earthly idea.  All I can tell you is that I'm a sucker for a cute face.  Just look at the Golfer.

This is Norman, our second rescue puppy and the newest addition to our family.  You can read his story here.  Let's just call him a totally unplanned and crazy addition, but very much loved by everyone.  But Norman has become fiercely protective.  I think it has something to do with the fact that he is finally in a home where he is loved.  But Norman will bark at the Golfer if he looks at me cross-eyed.  Norman will bark at the palm trees outside our window.  And forget about the UPS guy.  He doesn't stand a chance.  I'm about ready to call the Dog Whisperer.  Good thing he lives in the neighborhood.

And this here is Freddie, our first rescue puppy.  Here is his story.  See what Freddie is doing in this picture?   Yeah.  A whole lot of nothin'.  That's what he does all...day...long.  Except when he scratches to be let out, and then scratches again two minutes later to be let in, and then scratches again two minutes later to be let out...over and over again.  Other than that, and the fact that he has a hard time keeping his tongue in his mouth because he has lost so many of his teeth, he's pretty low maintenance.  

And lastly, here's Daisy.  She is not a rescue puppy in the traditional sense, but we rescued her all the same.  We bought her from a family whose Dalmatians had just happened to get pregnant.  Long story short, about a week after having her we discovered that she had Parvo (the doggie equivalent to having AIDS).  There was a 50/50 chance of her making it, and after a few days in quarantine at the vet and a quick 500 bucks later, she was all better.  Sadly, she is the only surviving member of her litter.

Daisy's now 12 years-old, pretty old for a large dog.  The vet just told me last week that she's in great health.  Except what the vet doesn't know is that I think she is starting to lose her mind.

She will howl at about 3 AM (and I mean the kind of howling that makes your neighbors hate you) for no apparent reason.  She whines all the time.  She whines if she's outside alone.  She whines if she's inside.  She'll stand there and stare at you and just...whine.  She's starting to lose bladder control (not good at all for my sisal rug) and she constantly shivers, even when it's 90 degrees out.

These dogs are driving me to drink.  I'll admit, it doesn't take much, but still!

The problem is that I love them all.  The boys love them all.  And the Golfer loves them most of the time.

And you want to know the crazy part?  The Golfer asked me the other day, "So what kind of dog are we getting next?"

So see, it's not all my fault.  Just most of it.