![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Classes have started again. In my Greek class, I'm the only person in class who doesn't know everyone else, professor included. Sigh. So that is going to be a bit uncomfortable. Not wildly so, but...being outside of the commonality of everyone else all semester? Ugh. At least the course looks interesting itself, despite recapping a lot of translation I've done before. It will be brutal and informative.
In other news, I have acquired a new dog! I have not named him yet. His previous owners, whom I judge for a variety of sins, named him Shorty. That is not going to stand. He was listed as a corgi/cattle dog mix, which is sort of absurd, as he's maybe fourteen pounds and the size of a runty non-miniature dachshund. He is, in fact, remarkably dachshund-like in shape, with the long hair that some of that breed has, but with a corgi sort of face and paws, and a cattle dog's coloring. It's rather odd. God only knows what went into his making.
What went into his shelter travails: he was picked up a month ago as a stray, and promptly adopted. Two or three days ago, his family returned him, saying that they couldn't keep him because he was "fearful of all new people and new situations." Given that he's about two minutes of shy around brand new people, and was happy to investigate the whole back yard the instant given a chance to do it, I have no idea what they meant. Maybe they lived in an exceptionally terrifying house full of exceptionally intimidating people.
Anyway, I saw him at the shelter yesterday, thought he was sweet and adorable, went home, and said to myself, "God, there's an 80% chance a dog that young, pretty, and house-trained will be gone before I can get back tomorrow for other people to meet him." A bit of hasty texting later, I drove right back to the shelter and picked him up. MINE. ALL MINE.
So far he's as housebroken as promised, not particularly destructive (though he does want to chew on toys Pixel would just groom), interested in cats but willing to back off the instant they hiss, and absolutely in hate with the whole concept of being crated. So I think this is workable. The older cats, of course, hate his existence; Zabina is wary, but comes by to investigate periodically, and has already declared herself willing to eat his kibble if he doesn't get to it fast enough. Which he generally doesn't.
A whole long series of pictures beneath the cut.
( Doggy! )
In other news, I have acquired a new dog! I have not named him yet. His previous owners, whom I judge for a variety of sins, named him Shorty. That is not going to stand. He was listed as a corgi/cattle dog mix, which is sort of absurd, as he's maybe fourteen pounds and the size of a runty non-miniature dachshund. He is, in fact, remarkably dachshund-like in shape, with the long hair that some of that breed has, but with a corgi sort of face and paws, and a cattle dog's coloring. It's rather odd. God only knows what went into his making.
What went into his shelter travails: he was picked up a month ago as a stray, and promptly adopted. Two or three days ago, his family returned him, saying that they couldn't keep him because he was "fearful of all new people and new situations." Given that he's about two minutes of shy around brand new people, and was happy to investigate the whole back yard the instant given a chance to do it, I have no idea what they meant. Maybe they lived in an exceptionally terrifying house full of exceptionally intimidating people.
Anyway, I saw him at the shelter yesterday, thought he was sweet and adorable, went home, and said to myself, "God, there's an 80% chance a dog that young, pretty, and house-trained will be gone before I can get back tomorrow for other people to meet him." A bit of hasty texting later, I drove right back to the shelter and picked him up. MINE. ALL MINE.
So far he's as housebroken as promised, not particularly destructive (though he does want to chew on toys Pixel would just groom), interested in cats but willing to back off the instant they hiss, and absolutely in hate with the whole concept of being crated. So I think this is workable. The older cats, of course, hate his existence; Zabina is wary, but comes by to investigate periodically, and has already declared herself willing to eat his kibble if he doesn't get to it fast enough. Which he generally doesn't.
A whole long series of pictures beneath the cut.
( Doggy! )