The difference is that on this still, wintry day I’m not caught unaware and I suspect the enemy planes are enroute.

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Radio Silence

Only one day left of this ridiculous campaign. Much as I love to have NPR on as I potter around the house, today I think I will maintain radio silence.

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Roxy, Again

In January we briefly adopted an Anatolian shepherd named Roxy from the local animal shelter, until she stalked the semi-feral cats living in our garage. Sadly, we had to return her, although she was otherwise a very sweet dog who’d had a rough life, living on the street for several months before the animal shelter was able to capture her.

Tuesday evening I was walking our two dogs around the track at the local high school, when I noticed a guy walking two dogs, a small dark Chihuahua and a large tan dog, outside the school fence, paralleling us. They were on the marina access road so I saw them in glimpses, actually on the other side of the track’s grandstand, as well as a long hedge. But the larger, tan dog looked enough like Roxy to remind me of her.

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The War of Wills

How do you have a dog and not train her?

I’ll never understand that.  However old Nora is—let’s say a year—it’s obvious her prior owners did minimal if no training, and if anything scared the beejabbers out of her. She cringes so fast. Her cringing and eagerness to fit in give me the sense  her prior owners scared her. A lot. I wonder if they hit her.

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The Conquest of Our Home

We’ve been lied to again. This is not an 18-month-old dog.

We’re guessing she’s somewhere past half a year old to a year old. She has learned her name, but is struggling with “sit.” “Come” is pretty hit and miss. Really, she is still learning how to learn.

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Dulce Becomes Nora

After the troubles with Roxy, our cute little 18-month old Manchester terrier mix is far less drama.

Dulce arrives

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Our two days with Roxy

I visit the local animal shelter by myself because, if the missus went with me, we might end up taking a number of the waifs home with us. I went the first week in January and was impressed with several dogs, especially Balto, a large healthy young black German Shepherd pup, but after tending to the infirm Ernie, our days of carrying an elderly dog over 70 pounds up and down the stairs are probably over.

There were several sweet dogs that caught my eye, so I took Mrs. Ombud to the shelter, and we liked an Anatolian shepherd named Roxy. She had been a stray for several months before she was captured in October, and had been nursed back to health. She was a favorite of the animal shelter staff. They guessed she was six years old, and she was shy, but I first met her while she was being walked in the neighborhood, and she was quite cheerful and curious, happy to be out on patrol. So we returned the next day and adopted her.

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