As I sit here, watching my brand-new baby- girl, Russet, sleep off her anesthetic, I marvel at how restful it is to watch her sleep. In fact, I’m posting this entry on my iPhone, rather than my laptop, so I can sit beside her to help her rest.
Already, young Russet has given me a run for my money. Key words, run and money. While juggling adoption papers, a ten-ton shoulder bag, a set of keys and…oh, yes…Russet, I found out why we call them a “slip” leashes: the leash and my dog slipped right out of my hands! Tipsy though she was, my fugitive from justice rallied long enough tear across the parking lot but was apprehended by a new adoptive dad.
Arlington Animal Services and PetSmart took care of my money: adoption fee, $100. Leash, collar, food, doggie dishes, bed, e-collar, and a dozen other things, and counting…well, I covered my eyes at the check-out stand!
But a one-year-old surrendered- by- owner Shepherd/who-knows-what-else rescued from euthanasia?
I think you know the answer to that one.