Happy Adopt-a-versary!

March 28, 2016: Duncan's Gotcha Day

One year ago today (tonight), I brought home the overgrown mass of poodle hair that became Duncan. I'll never know his birthday, so I've decided to celebrate his Gotcha Day--his Adopt-a-versary. This is his first. 

In our first year together, this is what I've learned about him:

the begging face

• He does not bark or growl--except in his sleep. I've had a plumber in the house. I've had city water meter inspectors in the house. Duncan just sat on his chair and watched the parade. Not so much as a peep. When he sleeps, though, it sometimes sounds like he's fighting World War III single-handedly.
• He only sits in soft places: the back of the sofa, a pillow on the overstuffed chair, my bed. If we're in the kitchen and I tell him to sit, he runs into the living room and sits on the chair. (Where else would a king sit but his throne?)
• He is terrified of Huskies. He's not a fan of big dogs, in general, but Huskies scare the living daylights out of him. He literally jumps into my arms.
• Toys are not on his radar. He doesn't notice them or care about them. When I bring a toy to his attention, he's not the least bit interested in it. I have tried every type of toy I could find. Not a whiff of curiosity. I now have a bucket of unused toys for my next dog.
• He is not a cuddler or a snuggler, but his day is not complete until he's completely bathed my hand in kisses. Twice is his minimum.
• He is a follower, not a leader.
• He's not a problem-solver, either. If he's faced with a door that's ajar, he won't push it open with his nose. He'll just stare at it forlornly and wait for it to magically open on its own.
• He loves walks, but he doesn't always remember how they work.
• When he first got here, he was terrified of the kitchen. Would not set foot in it. Now he comes in regularly to beg while I'm cooking. (He also didn't know how to beg. He's become a pro at that, too.)
• He still hasn't figured out there's a powder room on the first floor. On multiple occasions, when I've been in the powder room, he's looked for me--upstairs. To get upstairs, he has to walk right past the powder room. Talk about tunnel vision.
• He loves--LOVES--watching dog videos on my phone. He watches very intently, and then gives me the "More?" look. 

Duncan wasn't sure what to make of his celebratory "pup-cake."

He's made tremendous progress in this first year, going from an almost completely-shutdown dog to a little man with a funny personality. I can't wait to see how he grows over the next year.

Happy Adopt-a-versary, Little Man! 

Happy Holidays!

Duncan in his holiday best

Wishing everyone the best of holidays, whichever holiday you might celebrate! 

---Ilene and Duncan

Winter Is Here

We got our first snow of the season today. A decent amount, too. I wondered how Duncan would react. At about eight years old, Duncan had certainly experienced winter and snow before. Heck, he was found wandering a frozen field in January. But this is first winter with me and I wasn't sure what to expect.

I took him outside. There was a respectable few inches of snow on the ground. Flakes were still coming down steadily. Duncan stood on the porch for a moment and sniffed the air. He sniffed some of the snow on the porch. Then he ate it. He ate the snow. I'm not sure what that means, but I think it's safe to say he's not afraid of it.

Here and above: Duncan supervising the snowplows.

After that, it was "Let's walk fast, Mom. It's cold out here." He trotted through the snow, down the driveway, across the street, to one of his preferred areas of grass. He took care of business and started trotting for home.

Back inside, Duncan jumped up on his throne--formerly my chair--and assumed his traffic-cop duties, watching the snowplows do their thing.

All in all, I'd say we had great success.

Hard to Believe It's Been a Year

How I remember Benji: surrounded by his favorite toys.

It's 3:30 pm, Halloween afternoon. Last year at this time, I was at the vet, saying goodbye to Benji. Benji had been with me for just over sixteen years at that point. I'd known for weeks that the day was coming, but that didn't make the day any easier when it finally arrived, when it was time to help Benji cross the Rainbow Bridge. The house felt empty that night, despite the parade of trick-or-treaters outside, and it felt that way for months after, until I brought Duncan home Easter weekend.

Duncan decided he wanted to be wonton for Halloween.

Tonight I will again studiously avoid trick-or-treaters, just as I did that night a year ago. Instead, I will light a candle and sit with Duncan and tell him about the big brother he never knew. How Benji liked to sleep on the back of the sofa in the same place Duncan does. How Benji, like Duncan, couldn't hold his licker. How Benji--all 15 pounds of him--figured out how to take up an entire queen-sized mattress. How Benji loved his squeaky balls. How he "talked" whenever I was on the phone. How Benji purred and groomed himself like a cat. How, in his later years, he liked to sun himself on the deck. How Benji, from his place over the Rainbow Bridge, brought Duncan and I together. (How else to explain that Duncan's adoption began on what would have been Benji's 17th birthday?)

Rest in peace, my Benji boy. And thank you.

The Same Thing Happens Every Night

Duncan, dreaming

I've had Duncan a total of four months, as of this week. We're still bonding, still getting to know each other, but after four months, I've noticed a pattern: he has the same dream almost every night. Of course, I have no way of knowing exactly what's going on in his doggie brain, but it sure seems like the same dream on repeat. I almost think it's a memory he's reliving, rather than a dream.

The dream usually happens when Duncan sleeps spread out, rather than curled up. It begins with his paws twitching, as if he were running. Next his ear--the one that sticks up when he lies down--flaps. Then his mouth moves, as if he were grumbling--except he doesn't make a sound. Finally, he barks. One single, high-pitched bark. Dream over. Duncan wakes.

The only time I ever hear Duncan bark is when he dreams. I'd give anything to know what's in the dream that makes him do so--because in his wakeful life, none of the usual stuff does. He doesn't bark when my neighbors slam their doors. He doesn't bark when my neighbors stand in front of my house and talk. He doesn't bark when the plumber or the HVAC technician come into the house to work. He watches it all very intently, but makes nary a peep. What kind of dog does that?