Ehmagerd, puppeh!

We (my roommates) rescued a dog that some people in the neighborhood were just going to set loose. It was a snap decision, "Just give us the freaking dog; we can put him in the backyard until we can take him to a shelter."

But then we fell in love. And the typically allergic roommate didn't have a reaction. The dog was quiet and well-behaved, if a bit too jumpy and nippy and in possession of un-filed raptor claws. He rarely barked and never reacted to the adjacent neighbors' ape-shit dogs who bark incessantly.

So we (my roommate) took him to the vet yesterday to get him checked out. He's about 6 months old and pretty healthy except for hookworms, which takes a three-day prescription. He was abused by previous owners but is young enough that we can love him to pieces all better.

He was very nervous Sunday when we first brought him inside and stood ready to go back out for several seconds before cautiously and unenthusiastically sniffing around the living room at our encouragement. He delighted only in finding a cat toy to nom. But when I got home last night, I saw a HUGE difference in how relaxed and well-adjusted he was after spending the day at home with the roommate. That made me happiest of all.

Roommate wanted to call him Pax, like peace, but his wife called him Paxil, like the antidepressant, and that was that. He's a pit mix and very sweet and mellow, as eager puppies in a loving new home go, but the vet was happy to declare him boxer/collie so that our landlord will allow it.

Auntie Moniqa gets to start taking him for morning walks. :)