Day Five: Here comes the world, Angus

At 5:55 a.m. I am standing in the cold, white back yard, tossing a stick for Rosie and reaching down to scratch Angus' ears. The moon is nearly full, the sky is black, and I am in my bathrobe and my bedroom slippers.

It's not a bad life, if you don't mind being frozen and sleep-deprived.

Last night, Angus was up at 10:45 p.m. and 1:10 a.m. and I thought it was going to be a hellish night, but after the 1:10 outing I didn't hear him chirp again until 5:15. And when I got up to check on him, Rosie was lying on the floor outside his kennel.  Be still my heart!

But his blissful existence is about to change: Today I go back to work.

Angus is now signed up for puppy classes, to begin on Saturday. He has his first veterinarian visit on Friday morning. I remember when we brought Rosie to see Dr. J for the first time--she was a rowdy, high-strung puppy, and like some human babies when she got overly tired she didn't conk out; she threw tantrums. (Hence her nickname, "The Wolverine.")

She didn't like Dr. J that first visit--I think the whole thing was very stressful for her--and when he was done examining her (as she thrashed and shrieked), he handed her back to me and said, "Tell Doug he has my condolences."

But Rosie has grown into a sweetie. (A barky sweetie, it is true.) And as Doug and I were talking last night, the key, we think, was socialization. At her puppy class, they told us, "Have her meet 100 new dogs a week." Which of course was an impossible task, but we got the point. She plays with neighbor dogs, we have her meet new dogs on the walks, and when a new puppy shows up--well, she loves him enough to lie on the floor outside his crate until he gets up.