And, yet again, more puppy.

And a little cat blogging action. ARG is having a little trouble adjusting to her new, uh, sibling. Mostly she has remained aloof, pretending to sleep but really watching this little ursurper to her throne. He’s got the big blanket she likes to sleep on spread out on the floor. He’s got the attention of all the people in the house, most of the time. There is strange food out, and a strange food bowl and a lot of toys that look like hers but aren’t, because they smell like this little stinky thing. So far, she’s resisted the urge to smack it into next Thursday, and only once has there been a bit of a snarl and a show of temper.

But she is silent and sulky and more than a little standoffish. We thought that she had run away this morning when the guys from Lowe’s delivered the new dryer, but she was just hiding under the couch. She will adjust in time. She hasn’t hissed at him yet today, so we consider that good.

He spends a lot of time sleeping. Go figure, I guess — he travelled a whole bunch of miles yesterday to come to his new home, and after sniffing everything he could get his nose to, and bring drug out into the rain more times than he could count for some purpose he didn’t quite yet grok… he basically collapsed in a little puppy pile under some blankets and snoozed the night away. Now if his mom could just stop touching him, he might
catch up on those z’s.

He’s like my parents dachsund — a burrower. He pulls and tugs at his blanket, snuffing and pawing, until he’s surrounded himself with cozy warmth. I don’t think it will be much of a stretch to get him into tiny doggie sweaters and jackets. He will be one well-dressed pup. I had hoped his tiny size and dressability would make me find him more endearing… but he’s still just a miniature version of a dog, with the same doggy scent that makes for sneezing, and the same doggy slobber that gives me an itchy, uncomfortable rash. Oh well. I guess I really am a cat person.

But he is cute, and he is here to stay, so I suppose both she and I should get used to him. And if nothing else… at least he is small enough that a shoebox with a lid will suffice as a containment area.

I’m only sort of kidding about that. He currently sleeps in a box on K’s floor. The tiniest crate size was too big — he pooped in it. So we ended up going with a small packing box lined with wee-wee pads and a fluffy blanket.

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