The Crazy Dog Lady

Today, we went looking at a dog. Not just any dog. A dog with potential to become OUR DOG.

She's a chihuahua from what I'm pretty sure was a mill breeder demanding 500 euros for an unchipped puppy without papers. Say what now? Anyway, the adult dog that's being given away is fully grown with long hair in white, brown and black. She's quiet and sweet and not used to men, a city, loud noises and not being the lowest ranking dog in the pack. She is, however, house-trained and not agressive, unlike some of her pack mates, although she is not afraid to let herself be heard if she's so inclined.

Sadly, Kara, the dog we looked at, was not quite the dog we were looking for. On the other hand, she captured J.'s heart and is being saved from a suspicious death on Saturday afternoon. Also, Boyfriend and I are dog-sitting her the week his parents are on holiday with the other doggies. Should we fall in love after all, we're allowed to keep her, but I doubt we will.

But I've been going dog-crazy lately. And not just a little, either.

I've been knitting and felting dog toys since yesterday afternoon until now, and I'm still not done. One of them won't shrink, somehow. I've got an indestructible soft ball and a comically large dumbbell toy with visible stitches. Wash it under unnaturally hot circumstances, I must.

And I found a recipe for dog treats. One batch of the stuff makes for LOTS of tiny dog treats, and I have enough for at least one and a half more batches of the stuff. I could fill one of our freezer boxes with them and become the doggy equivalent of McDonald's. Lord save us. I'm testing them tomorrow, I think. Come to think of it... There's nothing poisonous in them. I could test them now. Boyfriend!

And I've been looking at dogs. Lots and lots of dogs.

I've accepted that, if I want a dog, the chances of the pet being larger are small. Also, our budget does not allow for a pure-bred, show-ready, predictable puppy. So we're scouring the internet and small adds for tiny mutts under 200 euros. We also don't want a dog that's quiet and limp all the time. But neither do we want a yapping bouncy ball on crack. So a puppy it shall be, whom we can mold and shape after our own image (unless the perfect dog shows up for adoption somewhere). Which means a few weeks of getting up in the middle of the night to go pee-pee with the little thing. And teaching it to walk on a leash. And training Boyfriend not to go 'aww' when something newborn and tiny tries to viciously attack him.

There's two ads that caught my eye so far.

One is a set of puppies that are half-pug, half-yorkie. They're so ugly, it's cute. They're used to cats, other dogs and apartments. Also, they're tiny, which is a big plus. Boyfriend is not calling the owners so far.

Then there's a pack of half-labrador, half-something unknown. They're rough-haired and dark, but not as big as labrador puppies. They're adorable as can be, have been chipped, and are growing up with cats and kids. They're ready to leave their mom at the end of the month. Boyfriend is not calling in for them, either.

We looked at the pound's offering of dogs, but they mostly have dogs who are either old or described in such a way I'm reading 'agressive MOFO' inbetween the lines, which isn't what we're looking for, either.

That, and I'm still in love with the puppy called Otto, who seems perfect and is still looking for a good home. I'd go get him, except he lives 6 hours away by car.

Sigh. I guess I'll look further, then.