I rang the doorbell when we got home and my husband answered the door in complete confusion. The cocker spaniel was a Tazmanian Devil at the end of his leash, and our cat Abby looked disgusted from the other side of the threshold. My husband took a long time to warm up to the dog while I posted notices everywhere, and every day for three weeks we thought someone would claim the dog. No one ever did.
That interim period was scary because I was afraid to get too attached to the dog, so he suffered quite a bit. I didn't want to name him or pay too much attention to him as a way of protecting myself. When we finally gave up hope of finding his people we named him Quincy and invited him into our hearts, even though he was a total mess.
He scratched himself all the time when I first brought him home, so I bought special food for dogs with allergies and he hardly scratches at all anymore! He wouldn't let me touch his paws or face, and now I can swab his weepy eyes as much as I want. I can even brush his paws. His fur is so thick I don't think you can actually feel skin on his legs at all! He lets me pick him up, flip him over and rub his belly all the time, he doesn't have a single hot spot anymore, we got him neutered and he got all his shots. Next week he gets his first haircut at the dog salon.
He just wants to play with us and his squeaky toys all the time. We took him to obedience classes and he's learning some manners, while we're learning how to communicate with him. It's been an amazing transformation. That said, last night was his last class at dog training and he pooped twice during class. How embarrassing.
I love having a dog. I love that I can pick him up and play with his paws all I want, while looking him in the eye and talking baby talk to him. He's a good boy. I look forward to having a couple kids he can play with, he just loves them so much!
Here's Quincy, our sweet, dumb dog.
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