It's been nearly three weeks since we brought the loveable mutt home from the SPCA and he's thriving. We're all thriving. He's learning - if you run too fast towards the sofa you hit your head on it and it hurts, and we're learning - if you put your hand in his mouth to get the ball out, you can scrape your hand against some of his teeth, and they're pointy!  And we've all had to make adjustments. He has had to get used to the fact that he can't slip his collar and chase after rabbits and squirrels because then the walk is over and we go home and that is sad, and we've gotten used to the fact that our faces are always going to be vaguely damp from the deeply-felt affection of our pooch. In the latter case, we're not finding it too much of an adjustment, except when our mouths are open when the licking starts. 

He's got some weird neuroses. This morning he got totally freaked out by one of my socks. White, with grey, black, and hot pink stripes. He just flipped. He's also easy to calm down, and within 30 seconds he was getting a nice tummy rub, and I was wearing the socks with no apparent problems. If he attacks my feet today, I'll know why!  He insists on watching my husband pee, but I think it's a turnabout is fair play situation, as my husband gets to watch him pee. My husband is not so keen on this one of D.J's little foibles. 

Walking D.J. is still a toss-up. Nicely-behaved dog some walks, alligator-wrestling others. Add a male human walking towards us and D.J. gets frightened. A dog - dear god, if anyone is walking a dog at the same time it's absolutely hellish. A group of school children? Let's just say that I've phoned the local elementary school, where my daughter attends, just to double check all the lunch hour and recess times so that he's not outdoors when he kids are. Otherwise, he does pretty well. A couple of humans at a time don't freak him out, so we take him up to the arena when there's likely to be hockey practice [6:30 a.m. on a Saturday morning is a good time] and there should be a mother and a kid whom D.J. doesn't find threatening and he socializes well. 

His biggest dream, I think, is to chase, catch, and eat a school bus. You should see the longing in his eyes when one drives by!

So John and Ash & I piled in the car last night and took an increasingly nasty ride into the big city - the weather just kept getting worse and worse. However, we were determined, and we eventually ended up at the SPCA. We took a short quiz that would help match us with the particular pace and behavioural styles of the dogs that they had up for adoption, and on their recommendation, first took a look at a beautiful animal named D.J. Apparently half purebred German Shepherd and half mutt [as far as they can figure], we were invited to take him into a large room where we could get to know him and play with him. 

The large room is where they do dog training, glassed in and attractive, with seats around the side, and it soon became apparent that D.J. was a love of a dog. Although a little shy at first, he soon came over to sniff us, and started to play a tug of war game with us and a favourite plush basketball toy. He seemed very affectionate and gentle.  The SPCA people said that he was their favourite and that he had been there for months; they could not understand why no one had chosen him yet.  I know the answer to this question: he was meant for US.  

So D.J. is now a member of our family.  He adores us already, and I him.  Never before a dog owner, I can see already why people love having dogs around.  He is fun, silly, and so affectionate, giving cuddles and licks, and falling asleep with his head in my lap - last night not only did I not only forget to take my early-evening meds for my manic-depressive illness but was so relaxed because of this dog that I didn't even need them.  [I did take them later.]  I am wondering if he is the cure for what ails me - deep sadness, because he brings me great happiness.  John tells me that D.J. stands for Daily Joy, in his opinion, and I think he is right.