Rachel versus Kitty

I returned to Concow late last night. Took a vigorous walk with our new dog this morning. Yes, a new dog. And our last new dog (if I ever get my way around here).

The fuzzy one above (the other one is a neighbor dog that tags along for our walks) showed up at our house last week. She then proceeded to adopt us, and the dog's owner didn't really want to have the dog---this led to the normal pleading, whining and promises to "do absolutely everything for the dog" by the girls.

And so we have a new member of the household. I am an invertebrate. No backbone. I caved like a prom date.

Kylie wants to call the dog "Kitty". I've been calling the little rascal "Little One" and "Rachel" (after Rachel Carson). This dog has had a life thus far full of transitions, a fair amount of neglect and has had two names: "Rose" and "Stinky". in its short six month life. In the Redneck Culture of Concow, dogs are rarely looked after. And they are rarely spayed, leading to an explosion of dogs on this ridge.

We will spay the new dog and give her a home. The pup is learning the rules around here after having lived a rather uncultured doggy life. She is learning the Thou Shalt Nots from Abbey and Angel like sitting and waiting patiently for "second supper", the art of "staying by" on a walk and the fact that the inside of the house is not a toilet. She is catching on quickly.

And this new dog knows that she has it good: that's why she adopted us.