Carson's Corner - Chapter 1
At one time or another, we were all first time Scottie owners. Some rescue groups will not adopt their breed of dog to someone who has no experience in the breed. At NTSR, we believe that everyone has to start somewhere. A little over 3 months ago, we got in a application from Mark Roberts to adopt a Scottie. He had never owned a Scottie but he and his wife, Dena, had researched the breed and thought a Scottie was the right dog for them. We loved their application but we didn't have any available dogs. We were able to find a private placement for Mark and Dena and they were able to adopt their Scottie, Carson. Since they were first time Scottie owners, we asked them to send us a recap of the first 90 days of living with a Scottie (they had Brittany Spaniels previously). Because they've adopted a Scottie, he's now in charge although they are in complete denial of this. So instead of Mark sending me a report, Carson did. The following is Carson's report of his first 90 days with inexperienced Scottie owners. Enjoy.
You asked me to turn in my report after three months on the job here at the Roberts'.
It's been exactly 90 days since I rescued the Master and Master's Wife. What a woeful situation this was! The rumor was they'd had dogs before around here but I sure couldn't tell it. Nothing had been marked in years, and they didn't even have stairs to help you get up on the couch! Do I even need to mention the mail box? The pee mail there hadn't been answered in ages.
And these folks actually sleep late without a handy wake up call to say "Let's get some breakfast and go outside to answer nature's call." Primitive, I know.
Well, I've taken some steps to get this situation in paw. I picked out the corner of the sectional - the triangular wedge - as my own and have had stairs and a blanket installed there permanently. Master and Master's Wife are learning about the joy of getting off their tails and taking me for a walk in the neighborhood. They also know now that I like riding in the truck with the window down so I can stick my head out and enjoy a little breeze. We eat at nothing but the best restaurants - the ones that have a pet porch. Even better news: they are feeding me with some yummy stuff they get at the overpriced Pet Supply store. Nothing but the best for us Scottie dogs!
It's not all good though. Just because my ear developed this delightful cheesy smell they insist upon putting drops in it at night and sometimes they even wipe out lovely brown junk and then make horrible "ewwww!" sounds. They also persist in calling me Scottie McBlur when I'm walking, which is an apparent reference to how I'm going so fast they can't hardly see me. I find this attempt at humor a little annoying.
Worst of all, sometimes they leave me at home alone. It doesn't happen much but it does happen. That's hard to bear, because, truth be told, I am developing a deep fondness for Master. He has taught me to hunt carrots which is easily the greatest sport of all time. I never knew anything could be so thrilling as to see him toss a carrot down the hall or around the corner or even in another room and then wait, wait, wait for the command to "Hunt!" I just get quivery all over and then he says "HUNT!" and I spring off like a rocket, snuffling the ground and looking till I find that delightful crunchy nugget. It's toppers, I tell you. I feel like I was made to do this. Master really moved up a notch in my book for showing me the world of hunting! He's quite the first rate chap, if I say so myself.
And it's not just carrots. There are trips to the frozen yogurt stand, and there is this coffee place that gives me a cup of whipped cream in a concoction they call a puppy whip. Let me tell you, they aren't whipping any puppies that I can see and the stuff in the cup is just fantastically delicious. Master and I also go just about everywhere together. It's terrific fun. We get in the truck and go places and people fawn over me and pet me. Master is quite patient with this and even seems a little proud. Oh yes - Master's office is another source of delights and I have found exactly the right napping spot there. It's what a Scottie does, right?
These people are sports fanatics so I'm learning about Texas Rangers baseball, a sport which seems to cause Master a lot of misery which causes Master's Wife a lot of misery. I try to cheer her up by putting my wet nose on her calf but I'm not sure that is as helpful as I thought it'd be. I'm gonna keep trying tho. What can you do?
As I write this I'm in the reading den beside Master, curled up on the big leather chair. Master got me a blanket to rest my chin on and he is working on something and I'm dozing and life is, I must admit, very very good. These really are good people. They hate cats, appreciate dogs, and they snack a lot and believe in sharing those snacks liberally (remind me to tell you about the Snack Plate Ritual at 10 PM each night).
So, in conclusion, the rescue seems to be going very well. You never know how these rescues will turn out (a friend of mine went to a home where they had small children that were ill-mannered - oh boy) but I think Master and Master's Wife are going to be just fine. I'm sure I can smooth out the last remaining rough spots (more carrots, larger portions at breakfast and supper, for example) so they'll be just Grade A.
More to come. But this situation really points to just how successful the rescue program is. Where would Master be without me? I shudder to think ... (Yawn) about that, don't you?
Carson the Scottie