Tabitha has been very lonely being an only dog, and two months of no dog is more than I can stand, so we've been looking at Petfinder to see what happens. I indicated that I was interested in an Extra-Large Male dog. We usually get Rottweilers, Mastiffs and Great Danes, and I really wanted something fluffy, so we just kept looking. One day, we saw:


Extra-Large, Male and Fluffy. Looks NOTHING like Zachary, except. . . He reminds me of him when we first got him. A little scared and confused, uncertain and afraid.

King George Animal Control is not a no-kill shelter. Mostly in places like that puppies and small dogs get adopted pretty quick, the larger, older dogs are not adopted quickly, sometimes they aren't adopted at all.

I called and spoke to a really terrifc animal control officer (whose name I wish I could remember) who told me that since Mr. Shepard Mix was unneutered, I couldn't adopt him directly from the shelter. He told me to call King George Animal Rescue League, who could "pull" the dog for me and let me adopt from them. I called and left a message, and received a phone call about an hour later from Ms. Victoria Tate. (In my opinion, Ms. Tate deserves an award, a large cash reward. She's fantastic.)

Ms. Victoria told me to fill out an application and encouraged me to come up and meet Mr. Shepard Mix. She told me that bringing Tabby along was great and she sent me pictures, and a glowing recommendation for the dog.

Pictures:





He looks like a dog version of MorGeorge (whose pictures are generally captioned "What?" )

I drove up with Tabitha, and left her in the car. Inside they took me back to the kennel area and let me see him. The noise level was unreal. There are only about a dozen kennels, and every dog in the place was barking it's head off, except for Mr. Mix. He was really nervous, but one of the dog walkers (The two I met were really, really nice and the girl I was working with was so patient and so nice to me and Mr. Mix. Wonderful people.)

We went outside on a leash, no pulling, a little pacing, but I'd put that down to nerves generated by his environment. He let the young lady cut some of the mats off from around his ears, and while fearful, was not snappy or growly. A good sign.

I got Tabitha out of the car and let them meet. There was some posturing, and a little growling, but ten minutes later they were fine. I took him back in and walked him through the room with the cat kennels, where he tried to escape as soon as one of them growled at him. I'm going to take that as a positive sign.

The lady from KGARL called ten seconds after I got up this morning, so I talked to her, enjoyed our conversation, and I have no idea what her name is. My apologies. She wants pictures of the fenced back yard,so I thought you guys might like to see them too:

This is across the back deck to the gate


This is across the back yard from one corner to the other. It's a pretty good size, not huge, but not postage stamp either

This is from the middle of the back down to the front corner

Here's the crate room. Tabby's is the small one on the left, he'll have the Ginormous one on the right. We usually keep memory foam mattresses in them, covered with cheap blankets. I would expect we'll just give him blankets the first day so he doesn't eat the memory foam. Then if that works, he can have a comfy bed for the day.

And lastly, his comfy bed in the bedroom where he will eventually spend his nights.

I really am trying to be more regular with this.

We were on the Story of Pendergast when last we met . . . .


So, Mr Dignified showed up and was cured of what we believe to be Bartonella, a bacterial infection. Minor miracle, seriously.

He had no interest in the other kitties, and no interest in petting or lap time. He didn't play. I have a kitty hammock on the table and he spent most of his time there. I never heard him purr. About two months ago, he started pitching a screaming hissy fit when I put him in the bedroom at night. After three consecutive evenings spent under the bed growling, I decided to let him stay out and about at night. I really started thinking that I'd made a mistake and he was never going to adjust or be happy here.



I talked to the roommate, who reminded me that our goal was not to adopt a lapcat, but to give him a life outside of a crate. In this we have been successful, and if he never decides to be part of the family as a whole, he's still better off with windows and kitty cups instead of most of his time in a crate.

OK. Attitude adjusted.

Fast forward a couple of months. He has become more and more "sociable", sitting out in the living room, separate and aloof, but still, out with the rest of the crew. Sometimes he sits on the couch. (!) He plays with the cat teaser, and has switched over to wet food from dry. I can't comb him, and God help whoever tries to trim his nails, but he greets me at the door, and meows if you talk to him. Go figure.

Here's a more current picture or two. Isn't he beautiful?