Dawn Baca

The Paddy Wagon’s a Coming!

We are often reminded that we’re softies. Or better known as suckers. It is true. We know. The only reason that it is remotely controlled at this point is geography. If we lived in the country, with acreage to spare our brood would grow dramatically.

A few weeks ago, my husband while helping out a friend of a friend, agreed to take on the fostering, or babysitting of a pug. Yes I really did say Pug. When he first arrived, I couldn’t get past the smooshed face and lack of neck the little guy had. He’s kinda ugly in a cute sort of way.

For those who know us well, this is a reason for hilarious laughter. For those who may not understand the smirks and giggles, we already are the proud parents of two labrador retrievers. So imagine a house with two “Elephant’s” as our friends affectionately call them, and a runt of a dog. I started to tell people that we had two and a half dogs. Partially because we really only own two, and the other is a foster, but also because the little guy, is well a little guy, not really a full sized dog!

The house has been interesting lately watching the little guy adjust. If he’s not chasing the outside cat because she just runs, he’s chasing the indoor cat that stands her ground, hisses and swats at him. Scrambler plays with him, Shadow snarls when he eats out of her bowl. But over all they seem to be getting along well. He’s a total lover, with the sweetest disposition. He can melt even the coolest of hearts. He’s melted mine.

The owner of the pug called my husband to tell him that under the circumstances with her family emergency that she wasn’t sure when she would be coming home or if she was going to be able to take him back when she did make it home. We never expected to take him on forever. However after having him for a few weeks the idea of just handing him off to someone else isn’t any better of an option.

It’s not 100% sure at this moment, but it’s looking like a strong possibility that we’ve just inherited a Pug. It’s a darn good thing he’s grown on us.

Right about the time that the owner of the pug called to say she couldn’t take him back, I guilted my husband into rescuing a kitten. We spent an entire day shopping, short of breakfast the rest of the day was spent at various different stores.

Getting ready for his annual men’s backpacking trip, we ran a ton of errands. He decided that he wanted to take the two labs with him, so he wanted to get some packs for them to be able to carry their own food and water etc.

The first thing I did when I walked in the door was look at the rescues. And well, not my best idea, there was this little guy about three and a half months old that was just a playful little guy. With the coolest markings. He’s a yellow/gold tabby that is just adorable. The volunteer took him out of the cage and handed him to me. She said he’s a great little guy but nobody wants him. He’s been around for more than a month and no one was interested. It broke my heart. As I was holding him in my arms he snuggled up to my neck, kissed my chin and just purred. When I handed him over to my husband the kitten did the same thing to him.

My husband was adamant that we didn’t have room for another animal. It took me almost a full hour to convince him to go back to the pet store to go get the little guy. But we did. And he’s just the sweetest little lover. Unfortunately the spastic calico was furious with me. It took her two full days to forgive me. She hasn’t adopted the little guy yet, but she’s at least speaking to me, and not hissing at me, and now she’s snuggling with me (when the new guy is no where around!) Baby steps for now, but at least they are moving forward.

Just as the pug grew on me, the kitten has stolen my husband’s heart as well. Though he has decided that I’m not officially off my rocker, and has warned me to keep an eye out for the padded wagon because it’s surely on its way.