Living la vida loca
Loca is such a good dog that it is easy to forgive her puppyness. She goes in her kennel by herself after just a little biscuit training. She lays by my feet while I work. And she asks to go out. She seems to have formed a bond already with me as if we were meant to be together. Even Arlene doesn’t mind her that much – although sometimes she does.
She’s that something something, you know. If I had played my hand in my next dog – she would have come after Arlene had passed, she would have been another Welsh Corgi, not a lab. She wouldn’t have been black – I actually prefer black and white dogs. She would have been small, instead Loca looks like she will weigh about 70 lbs when all is said and done.
But we now believe that someone “dropped” her off at Swirl seeing all those people that were hanging around. And I now believe the fates brought her right into my arms. Arlene suddenly has a little lift in her step as if to say, hey, I’m not done yet. And my dog love just got upped exponentially.
Loca and I and Arlene now make three – none of us are probably what we were looking for – but we are more than we thought to ask for.