Rated: 13+ · Non-fiction · Relationship · #2080529
A black Lab, about a year and a half old, has come to join the household.
|He's a handsome specimen, with a shiny black coat, strong muscles, and the frame of a big dog. Strong dog. Handsome dog. Beautiful and nice dog. He's a Rescue Dog that someone abused in his life before me and my household. The lady I got the dog from said he had been an outside kenneled dog, that he needed socialization, and that sometimes he was kind of "mouthy;" I found out later that means he likes to get your hand or wrist, and bite down hard--too hard. I think he thinks he's being affectionate, in the Universe. I realized at some point that I was fortunate I didn't have broken bones in my hands. As a writer, I envisioned a writer's life with broken fingers. Most unpleasant. The addition of a dog to the household created some glitches, especially between the Mama Kitty. her six week old litter of three, and the beautiful Black Lab,|
What happened was instinctual, I think,and I let it run its course. Mama Kitty declared that the den, the sun room, and the back door were now "No dogs allowed" territory The declaration woke me from a nap, with meowing, hissing, and yowling, and I awoke just the other side of the room from the activity. I saw Mama Kitty had her claws out, and neither she or her kittens were in any danger. Poor puppy. Later I looked, and his nose remained unscathed. For all the noise I heard, the dog wasn't cat slashed, no cats had been harmed in any way. This Rescue dog is special to be able to get along with his housemates, He vacated the house, and lived outside.
I left the back door open to him, but he wouldn't come in. I tried to pull him through the doorway, and when he balked, I quit the idea. I admit to being convivial. We need to observe and adapt to the new behaviors of the dog.