Easter

No, not Easter as in the Christ's resurrection. We got a dog that week, though, so the name seemed appropriate.

One Tuesday morning before work, Joel noticed a stray dog in our yard, and beckoned to it. Skittish, it didn't respond until I came outside and bent down. The dog came right over, shy but friendly, and let us both pet. It scampered off when I left for work, and we figured that was the end of our relationship.

Friday night I finally got around to checking my email, and the neighborhood listserv had an e-mail from the town clerk. Apparently the dog was found and put behind the public works building while they waited for someone to claim her. No one did, and with no collar and no dog matching that description in the neighborhood registration, they were supposed to take the dog to the shelter within 24 hours. However, she was so sweet they couldn't bear to and waited until Friday. On a whim, Joel and I went to the shelter the next morning, and lo and behold, the poor dog. She had these eyes that just bear right through yours. There was a four business day waiting period for adoption, to make sure the owners hadn't just lost track of her, so we waited that out and brought her home.

We named her Easter for the season, and she immediately proved to be a sweet dog. Well-trained, she sits on command, sits when food is poured, and waits to eat until given permission. She's housebroken, and we can leave our flip flops by the back door all day and she won't touch them (except once, and I think that's because Joel's huge shoe is the size of her chew toy fish and probably smells about the same). Kidding, honey, kidding. She also tends to think she's a lapdog. About the only thing she doesn't like is not being able to cuddle 24/7 and taking a bath, though she begrudgingly accepts it.