The Third Toddler (Almost)

On Sunday afternoon we went on a walk and came home with a dog. Well, it came home with us.

When it first saw us, it let out a bark and then bounded down the hill towards us. My impression was that it was friendly, but I held up my foot to stop it; it bounced around us and the stroller, tail wagging.

“Go home, doggy,” we told it (N kept saying, “Bow-wow”) but it wouldn’t go, so I checked its tag: “Maizee” was its name. M called the phone number. “Thanks,” the lady said.

It was both a bit disconcerting and fun, having it follow us. It chased the cars, seemingly wanting to head them off at the pass. It scared up a groundhog. It was cute, kind of like N, who had black raspberry–we’d been picking them along the road–stains all over her clothing and hands and face.

By the time we reached our house, which it matched, it was still with us–alive, thankfully, after a couple very close calls with cars–and N was eager to get out of the stroller to watch the action (Bandida, the kitten, had already been treed by that time).

“I bet the owner will show up and ask us if we want a dog,” I said to M. “I’d take it.”

When the owner got out of his truck, he said, “Do you want a dog?”

“If you’re serious, I really might,” I said. He launched into an advertisement: “We got her at the SPCA, she’s spayed and has her rabies shots, she’s friendly, she doesn’t bother cows, she’s too energetic and likes to run around, she’s a border collie/Australian shepherd mix, she’s one and a half years old, she loves to ride around, and she’s house trained.”

I just wanted to jump out of my skin and say “Yes! Yes!” but my dear wife, at the moment banging around in the kitchen frying some potatoes for supper, has always played a more cautious tune when it comes to the doggification of our homestead. “I’ll talk with my wife, and if we’re interested, we’ll call you.”

“I’ll talk it over with my wife, too,” he said. “We have to do something with it. I hate to keep it tied up, because it needs to run.”

I looked up the breeds on my friend the Internet. I found that the dog would be perfect for N to trail after: it would be a working dog, protective, and very smart. I could give it some training and work to do this summer.

M looked up the breeds on her friend the Internet. They herd children. They need to be with people all the time. If they don’t have a job to do, they become destructive.

So…we haven’t called the man. Maybe we’ll get a mutt pup instead.