Frankly, Scarlett, We Give a Fam

When Hick showed me the two pictures of the for-free dog, it was obvious she was an Australian shepherd. In one pic, she was sitting in the back seat of a car, with an expression that suggested she might have been a naughty girl. Like when a dog acts ashamed. Or maybe she was just self-conscious of having her picture taken.

"She don't look too big. Smaller than Juno."

"Yes. I don't see any pit bull in her. We could take her."

"All right. I'll tell them."

"What would you do, go pick her up tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Wait a minute! They're bringing her out."

"Tonight? What will you do with her tonight? We don't have a place to keep her!"

"I'm pretty sure they'll bring her in a crate. We could use that, and give it back later."

"Make sure you offer to pay for the crate. We'll need it anyway if she has to go to the vet. But they might not bring it. She was sitting in the car in that picture."

"I will. If they don't bring it, I can put her in the garage overnight."

"I don't like that. There's too much that could hurt her in the garage."

"We'll think of something. They'll be here in an hour."

"WHAT? That soon?"

"I imagine she had to get ready for work tonight, and wants to get it done."

"It's going to rain..."

"I can put her on the back porch by the laundry room. It's always dry. That's where we put Grizzly when we brought him home."

"It stormed that night, too! And he was afraid of thunder his whole life! She's used to being inside. She might be scared."

"She'll be fine."

"Make sure you find out her name!"

For the next hour, we felt like expectant parents! Hick went out to sit on the front porch and wait. I went to the kitchen table and my laptop, to get my mind off of this big step in adoption after losing my Sweet, Sweet Juno only six weeks ago. When our bundle of joy arrived, Hick brought her to the kitchen door. He had her on a leash. She started to walk right in. Of course Hick didn't allow that.

"Her name is Scarlett."

"She's BEAUTIFUL! What did Jack think?"

"He sniffed her. He's right here. I offered to pay for the crate, but she wouldn't take no money."

Hick was trying to control Scarlett with one hand, and carrying the wire kennel with the other. He got it set up by the laundry room, and I went out to look.

Scarlett filled that kennel. She could stand up without ducking her head. And turn around. And lie down. That was it. A tight fit. It made my heart hurt to think of her trapped in there 10 hours a day. And to know that she'd be in there all night on the porch, during a storm.

"Here's how to work the door of the cage. I don't think you should take her out. She's STRONG! And she'll try to run out when you unlatch it. The gal said she's a runner. She'll take off if you let her loose. I'm leaving her leash on, so I can grab it. I'll take her out to pee before I go to bed."

Jack was curious, sniffing through the kennel. I reached in to pet the top of Scarlett's head. So soft! She was a friendly girl, wagging the remnants of her bobbed tail. I wished I could explain that she was only going to be caged up overnight. Hick had plans to go get a wire run the next morning. We used to have one that he'd used for a couple of other dogs when we got them, but I don't know what happened to it.

Anyhoo... Hick put a small dish of water in the kennel, and we went inside. It was 7:30. At 9:00, Hick took Scarlett for a walk in the front yard so she could pee. He said she had already been fed that day. Then he put her back in for the night.

"I don't think you should take her out at all! She will rip your arm off! She don't walk on a leash real good."

"I'll go out and talk to her through the night, since I'm up anyway. Just so she knows people are here. And in case she gets scared of the storms. She might go deaf from those frogs making all that noise! She's an inside dog!"

The storms came in around 10:30. Rain. Thunder. Lightning. I went to the laundry room to go out and check on Scarlett. Jack was lying by the door, beside his water bowl. I guess he was keeping her company! He usually retreats to the inside of a hay bale over by the old goat pen during storms. Scarlett was fine. She stood up and wiggled when I spoke to her.

At midnight:30, I went back out. The rain had stopped. I figured it wouldn't hurt to take Scarlett out and walk her down to the end of the porch. In case she had to pee. 

This was kind of a mistake... I managed to get her out without an escape, but slammed my arm in the gate twice to keep her in. I got hold of her collar, and then her leash. That little dog could pull both Hick and me on a dogsled! Easily! I think she could pull my ample rumpus across the splintery porch boards with no problem! My wrist is bruised from the tension on the leash I looped over it, even though I was holding the leash with my hand.

We walked down to the end of the porch, where there was a scattered pile of cedar shavings from when Hick had filled the dog houses during winter. I thought Scarlett might use it to take a pee, but she did not. She just pulled me along. I made her stop, and she stood up with her paws on the railing that overlooks Poolio. I petted her, and she turned to lean on me. Such a sweet girl! Just wanting love. Jack followed us. Not barking, not growling. Just sniffing. Then trying to get in a hump, so I swatted him off. Scarlett pretty much ignored him. So I figure there won't be any fighting.

Scarlett did not bark all night! No whimpering. Just a good quiet girl. I think Jack made regular inspections through the night.

More on Scarlett's first day here tomorrow.

Sorry, no closeup. This is a temporary set-up. Scarlett will run free with Jack after a few days to learn that she belongs here, with her new family.