When Laura and I moved into our current house three years ago, we inherited a very old outside dog named Bubba. Last July, I had to go on a business trip to Dubnica nad Vahom, Slovakia for a week and Bubba died while I was gone. Laura was a trooper for taking him to the vet to be cremated per the wish of the previous owner. Laura and I had talked about getting another outside dog but decided to wait until spring since the winters here can be quite cold.
Around the end of February this year, Laura saw an ad in the paper for Blue Heeler puppies for sale. We decided to go have a look. By the time we left the breeder, we had 
decided on two, one red and one black. I wanted the red one and Laura wanted the black one. I creatively named my dog Red, and Laura named hers Buddy. Red was the smart dominate dog and Buddy…well, he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box, but still a good dog. Unfortunately, they didn’t like to stick around home, so during the day they would be shut in an outside kennel with a fairly good sized fenced in run. When I would get home from work, I would let them out to run around and play, and work on teaching them some of the basic commands like “come”, “sit”, “stay”, etc. Before I went to bed, I would put them back in the kennel for the night.
Fast forward to Thursday of this week. The day started out with snow in the forecast and the weather did not disappoint. Being the first snow fall of the season, the roads were like sheets of ice and most drivers have not adapted their driving skill to the slick conditions. I counted at least a dozen cars in the ditch on my way home. I was very glad for four wheel drive that day. Anyway, when I get home, I head over to let the dogs out and make sure the heater in their water was working. As I am walking toward the kennel, I only see Bubby which is a little strange since Red usually bowls him over getting to the gate. As I get closer I see Red lying on the ground covered in snow. Apparently, he died sometime in the morning. I have no idea what the cause of his death was since he showed no signs of distress that night. So, I am a little bummed, but there is not a lot I can do about it other than bury him and move on.
Not all is lost, however, because sometimes the world works in mysterious ways. Over Thanksgiving, Laura went down to her folks and stayed for several days. I made a one day trip out of it since all of my family was here for Thanksgiving. I get a message from her asking if I would be interested in adopting a two year old female Miniature Pinscher from someone she knew. After some discussion, we both decided to go ahead with bringing her home. We already own a male chocolate and tan Miniature Pinscher and fully understand the challenges of owning Min Pins. So Tuesday, she shows up with a rust colored Min Pin named Tootsie. I went out to the car to help carry stuff to the house, including Tootsie. I found out one very important detail, that dog DOES NOT like me. I am not being dramatic here either. I actually had to put on my leather work gloves to carry the kennel to the house. She did NOT want me touching her cage.
At first, I was concerned that Tootsie was an aggressive dog and wondered how she would act toward Mason, Laura and our other Min Pin named Hyde. To my complete disbelieve, Tootsie cannot be more mild mannered towards them. It is apparently only me that she has a problem with. I have seen Mason grab Tootsie’s ear and give a tug. Tootsie just turns, gives him a look and goes back to sleep.
Tootsie has now been with us for three days and only bit me twice. She is getting better though, now she only bares her teeth and growls when I pass by instead of lunging at me. Life’s little victories I guess. Tonight I tried bribing Tootsie into getting close to me with a dog treat. The first one got tossed on the floor in front of me without incident. I had to test the waters first. She came up slowly, grabbed the treat and retreated to a ‘safe’ distance. The next treat I held in my fingers, which of course she bit as she was going for it, which, I classified as an accident and tried again. The third treat, she had to growl on the approach but did not bite. Now we’re making progress.
I am hoping with a little more time, Tootsie will warm up to me and not find it necessary to tear my leg off every chance she gets. I know Laura is also waiting for the day that Tootsie will come to me, since, right now, Laura is the only one that can let the dog outside. She will not come back to the house with me standing in the doorway. This has been a tough week, losing one dog, and gaining another dog that is not too fond of me. It is said that time heals all wounds, including the bite mark on my finger.
