Meet Olive. She’s a French Bulldog, about 5 years old.
We’re still very much getting to know her, but already she’s established herself as a world-class snuggler, a prerequisite for all of our dogs. She has brought back snorting, snoring, and heavy breathing back into the soundtrack of our house, much to our collective relief. (it had been too quiet around here)
She’s discovering a wholly different existence out here in this place that is so different from the kennel where she was confined to spit out puppies. Slowly, slowly she’s creeping out of her shell, remembering bits of what it is like to be a dog, a carefree one who finds herself for the first time not pregnant. I think she remembers this most when pursuing the chickens. “Chickens! Where have you been my whole life?” she screams with glee. Completely fascinated by them, she wants to experience them to the fullest (in her mouth) and loves playing chase. The coop, of course, is petrified and eerily quiet. I suspect they may be formulating a plan for escape to a farm without such a terror. It’s not a seamless transition, but we’ll arrive at New Normal soon enough.
With that, the House Coalition of Stand-Up Ears is at full capacity. Our beds will be warm this winter, our hearts so much lighter.
PS. I regret to inform you all that I had misspelled Leila’s name in prior posts. Her English not being so good, I misheard her initial spelling of it. How embarrassing.