The Story of Us or Why We're Thankful Every Day

First I want to thank Minna Krebs and Frankie Furter for starting this wonderful event. What with all the doings it's going to take a few days to catch up with everydoggy and kitty's stories but we look forward to it lots and lots. Now, onto ours.

It's my blog and I'm a dog so we'll do the doggies first, but there are also two kitties living here. In fact, they were here first, so we're including everyone in this post. Upon thinking it over, it's really only fair. But I'm first. 'Cause it's mainly my blog.

Me, Lola
I was surrendered, along with my last ever puppy and Puppy Daddy, to NYC Animal Care and Control in January of 2009 at about age 6. Or so they claim.  Is that a fine how do you do, or what? Take the best years of my life and then it's all "Thanks, bye!"  We were pulled right out of there by the wonderful Sean Casey Animal Rescue, located in Brooklyn, NY. Puppy had to be weaned and Puppy Daddy had to be neutered. Once that was accomplished they were adopted and then there was only me, Lola. I had to recover from birthing and nursing and then be spayed and then, of course, recover from that, so I wasn't available for adoption for a while.

Meanwhile, out in the wilds of Long Island, where the Dim Sum is not as good as in Brookyn, my future forever family was without a doggie for the first time in like forever. They'd been down to just one doggie and that was Alpha Mom's Shar Pei mix. He went to the Rainbow Bridge at age 15 in the Fall of '09. What was keeping them from finding a new doggie was that at the time there were three kitties and the oldest one was very, very sick. He'd had surgery for cancer, but the prognosis was that it wasn't all that successful and he had one paw on the Bridge. No one wanted to give him new challenges at that point in his life. But Blog Mom is just one of those Windows Shoppers, always poking around online and she was looking at Petfinder when she came across....no, not me. Violet. Violet was another Shar Pei who was at Sean Casey at the time. She was a beautiful leggy blonde of about two and a half. I won't lie. She was gorgeous. Blog Mom showed Alpha Mom and they both decided that they needed to go see how this amazing Pei would be with kitties. Here is a video of Violet and my good friend Mr. Casey. I do have to admit, it doesn't do her beauty justice.



Well, the Moms headed to Brooklyn the very next day and met Violet, who was everything her Petfinder listing claimed and more. BUT, Mr. Casey also told them about me, Lola. They met both of us and took us both for test walks. Blog Mom just could not make up her mind what to do. Luckily for me, Alpha Mom was more decisive. She thought that I, Lola, would be the right doggie for them. How right she was, too. Now, don't worry about Violet. She got adopted within mere days of that meeting and I moved out to Long Island, where they have big backyards but are short on sidewalks in some areas, seems to me. I met the rest of my new family, most especially Daddy, and settled right into my new home. My family thinks they are the luckiest people in the world to have found, me, Lola. It's worked out awfully well all around, don't you think?

My Little Brother, Franklin

Here's the part is about you, Franklin.

 Life was good being the center of the universe at my new, most perfect forever home. No one could really get over what a perfect dog and wonderful companion I was - and am, I might add. Still, Blog Mom worried that I missed the companionship of other doggies. She'd see me talking to my through-the-fence neighbors and wonder if I missed having another Shar Pei in the house, since I'd always been part of a multi-Pei pack. From where I sit and stay it's a trade-off. Being the only doggie can get a little lonesome once in a while but there are lots of perks to the situation, too. Still, Blog Mom couldn't keep away from Petfinder, although she and Alpha Mom talked themselves out of every doggie they considered for a long time. They did call on one but were told absolutely no kitties for that one, no way, no how. Sadly, that guy is still up for adoption months later.

Last July, however, Blog Mom saw one Shar Pei listed at our local town shelter and for some reason she couldn't talk herself out of this one. Why, I couldn't tell you. He was a most unpreopossessing Pei  in his photos and in pawson. He was too young. They were looking for a doggie who was around four years old, give or take and Franklin was under two and way too hyper. He was skinny and gangly and looked as if he'd been made up of spare parts from at least two different types of Shar Pei.  He hadn't had treatment for his Entropion eye problems when he was a puppy and it had become so advanced that the surgery he got at the shelter made his eyes....well...just not good looking. He was so much not what they were looking for that of course we adopted him the day we met him.

He had been surrendered too, like me. His family said they were forced to move and couldn't take the dog with them. He, like me, had been at the shelter for several months and he was so very happy to have a forever home again. I had to teach him about dog beds and playing with other doggies. Only in the last week or so has  he finally come to understand that if he gets up on the furniture, no one really minds. It took some time to undo his training in that area, but he finally gets it. He adores me, of course, and he loves the family and it really didn't take him long to settle right in and become a part of the pack. One thing that was interesting right away about Franklin is that he's a bit of a marker. Take him to the groomer, the vet, the pet supply place and he is very likely to lift his leg once. Then you tell him no and he usually gets that. But never once, even the first day, in this house. It's like he knew right away that this was his home.

 Kitties!

They say that you don't choose your kitty. Your kitty choose you. That was certainly true in the case of Happy and Simone. They were both here before I arrived. Simone is the most senior pet in the household. Stevie, the sick kitty went to the bridge a few months after I arrived. Simone is the tortie in the photo and is about 12 or so. Simone started out life living with other relatives, including a doggy and another kitty. They had to move in here for a while, also long before I arrived on the scene. Simone, for reasons best known to herself, but possibly including the bulldog she lived with, decided that she preferred our family and when her family moved on she made an independent decision to stay here. Not up for negotiation, either.

Happy, the gray guy in the background was abandoned when tenants in the house next door moved away. He was sooo upset, I'm told. He wouldn't come in the house for the longest time. He was scared to death of the other animals. My humans fed him in the garage, but other neighborhood cats would come and eat his food and he was getting awfully skinny. Finally the family insisted that he move inside the house and he just had to get used to it. He certainly put the weight back on. That was several years ago. No one really knows how old Happy is either, but probably around seven or so. He's a very nice kitty, but a big scaredy cat and not too bright. We don't mention that in front of him, of course.

Now, I'm sure you realize that it's against the kitty code to be thankful. They'd get drummed out of....something...if they expressed gratitude, but I think they're both pretty happy to be part of our family. Except they'd both like to be rid of Franklin, but you have to take the good with the bad sometimes. Not that Franklin is bad, exactly, but he has not accepted that they're not going to play with him. Actually, Simone does kind of play with him in a claws out, hissing and yowling kind of way.

That concludes the condensed version of the story of all the four leggers currently residing at Chez Lola. We hope you enjoyed and now we are going to try to get out there and learn more about your homecoming stories.

Speak, Franklin!

Hi everyone! My big sister Lola says that it was one month ago today, August 10th that my unfortunate incarceration ended and I joined the family. She also says I should write this post (almost) all by myself to thank  you all for your very nice and kind welcome to me and also for being so supportive through my name changes. I do thank you really a lot. You are all  so nice and friendly and I'm real happy to meet you all. I did want to say that, but I really didn't know what else to write about. My Big Sis said that I should talk about my Gotcha Day from my point of view, so I will. I pretty much always do what she tells me. More or less.

I'm going to let you write on my blog. Please don't embarrass me.

  It was a dark and stormy day when the lady came to meet me. I'd been on the inside for over three months for the crime of having a family that was moving and couldn't keep me. OK, I know that other dogs have it a lot worse than I ever did. I don't want to be a whiner, but it still wasn't a very cool experience, you know? I do have to admit that the warden and the matrons were pretty chill peeps. They looked out for us and everything and we got time in the exercise yard  every day. Also my family couldn't provide some important medical care  that I needed and I did get that while I was on the inside. I was going out of my mind, spending so much time in that little cell, though. And that's why I could have blown the whole deal.

A month ago today I was just hanging out in my cell when one of the matrons came and told me I had company. It was the first visitor I'd had and I didn't have any idea that this was like an important interview or anything. I was just excited to be out of the cell and to meet a new person because I really like people a lot. Matron brought me into this room  where this lady was waiting and I went all crack dog.  I ran around the room - stopping to say hi to the lady every so often - like I had a firecracker up my butt. And I lifted my leg and marked everything  that wasn't moving about every 5 seconds. I'm sooo embarrassed thinking about it now. After a few minutes of this the lady left and I went back to my cell and I figured that was that. But it wasn't.

An hour or so later the same matron put a leash on me and took me outside in the pouring rain. This was getting to be a pretty strange day. Now I'm a Shar Pei and I don't usually like to go out in the rain at all, but I didn't even care. That's how desperate a dog can get for a change of pace when he's incarcerated. We were out in front of the jailhouse and that same lady got out of a car, but she wasn't alone this time. There was another lady and a beautiful lady Shar Pei with her. I was so excited to meet this Shar Pei. I don't know if she was all that thrilled. I mean, it was raining a lot. We spent some time getting to know each other. Well, really I was mostly telling her how pleased I was to meet her and she was mostly trying to stay as dry as she could, but it was still a big thrill for me. After a while I got taken back inside again and I was planning on a nap and maybe dreaming of that lady Pei, but I didn't go back to my cell. Instead, one of the ladies came inside and spent some time with the warden and then she took me outside and we got into the car. The car with the beautiful Pei.  Wowser! I did not see that coming.

I finally figured out that this was something important. This could mean I was getting what I wanted most in the world - a new pack with a pawsome big sister. It seemed too good to be true, but I didn't want to make any more mistakes. I sat real nice in the back seat of the car and just looked out the window, all casual, like this happened all the time. We got to a house and went inside and I made a point of not even looking like I was thinking of lifting a leg. And I never have. Not once. I understand "house". That room in the jail just wasn't part of a house to me.  I haven't had a really bad day since. I have two Moms, a Dad a human brother and a bass player. What more could a dog want?

I love our big back yard, but I love my Big Sis more than anything.

 My wonderful big sister Lola started teaching me things right away. The very  first life lesson she taught me was never, ever try to mount your sister, even if you're not blood relatives. Hoo boy, I never made that mistake again. She also taught me how to play and also that we play when she says we do and it's not such a great idea to try to insist when she's not feeling like it. She feels like it a lot more now than when I first got there. I guess 'cause I learned how to do it right.

Big Sis introduced me to our pawsome neighbor, Sambuca

 She's still working on me and she can be pretty strict about some things, but I don't mind that. She's so much older  wiser and more experienced than I am that I don't mind at all that she's the boss of me. Actually, everyone's the boss of me, almost. That's not so bad, though. Everyone's kind and they love me so it just makes me feel safe and taken care of.

Another thing that Lola taught me is about dog beds. I didn't know that dogs could have beds or that we needed them. Turns out they're pretty great. I have more to talk about, but it's time for me to be in my bed right now. Maybe if I didn't embarrass her too much, Lola will let me do this again some time.

Night night everybuddy.

My Little Brother's Absolutely Final (we think) New Name

I have a couple of apologies to make. Of course none of this is my doing, but it's the innocent who suffer, is it not? Firstly, we were hardly online last night so I know I missed some of my furiends' posts. I will try to catch up today. That couldn't really be helped and does happen sometimes, but I still feel badly about it.

The second thing is where I'm more than just a little embarrassed. After all the encouraging comments you left about my little brother's new name (Brookstr) they changed it again. They said it just wasn't sticking to him. I'm not sure what that means, but you have to remember that even though there are four four-leggers here my humans didn't name any of them, until my brother. They are way out of  practice in coming up with names for anyone at all. (That was my attempt to be the loyal dog that I am and to make excuses for them.) Blog Mom saw something on the TeeVee last night and had an "inspiration". And everyone liked it. Even my little brother is showing early signs that he'll answer to it. So, without further ado, my little brother will henceforth be named Franklin. (You better be sure this time, Mom. I'm telling all my furiends - again.)

So, what was the inspiration, you might ask? Was it something on the History Channel about Benjamin Franklin who was so impawtent he's on some of our best green papers? No. Franklin D. Roosevelt, who was elected president about 100 times? No. My human brother was home and was catching up on episodes of True Blood that he'd missed, and there's a new vampire this season named Franklin. Now Blog Mom says that it's not that she's naming my little brother after a vampire who is kind of crazy even for the undead. It's just that the name sounded right. However, she does see a resemblance.

Not a vampire

Vampire

I don't really see it myself, except that in the show Franklin's eyes are kind of red rimmed a lot and my poor brother basically had his lower eyelids removed in a very drastic surgery for his Entropion and will probably always look like he's very, very hung over.

All of this was almost a moot point as we thought we lost him last night. Someone - I'm not naming any names (Daddy) wasn't careful when opening the front door and he shot right out. These humans are not used to having a doggy who does that. Not since they had labradogs, they said, and that was many years ago. So all hell broke loose. Everyone was running around looking for him. It was very dark and no one could see him. They were all yelling at each other to get flashlight and a leash. No one thought of putting me on a leash and letting me find him, which I would have, right away. Anyhoo, all of a sudden they saw him down the block, under a street light just ambling around. He didn't try to run away when they got to him. He seemed quite pleased that everyone had come out to join him on his evening ramble. All of this only took a few minutes but everyone got some more gray hair because of it. Now they have to learn how to train him not to do that,  and they have to train Daddy to always be extra careful in the meantime.

Thank You to Sue, On Behalf of My Little Brother

We have bark a big thank you to Sue at Dogs-N-More and also the Portuguese Water Dog Blog for devoting a whole post to welcoming Brooklyn. That was so very nice of her and we can't thank her enough. That is why we love the pet blogiverse. It's the friendliest place ever

Say "Thank you to the nice lady, little brother.

. Brooklyn will probably  be the dog formerly known as Brooklyn shortly. It turns out the whole family agrees with me, that while Brooklyn is a pretty good name in general, it doesn't suit the kid. He's not at all cool. Or tough. Or anything you might associate with a name like "Brooklyn". In fact, he's kind of nerdy, in a very nice way. We agreed it might be best to keep part of his original name, so we're strongly leaning toward "Brookstr", leaving off the "e" to be all Web 2.0 about it, like Flickr and Tumblr and whatnot. We have to get used to it ourselves, after calling him Brooklyn for a week.

Brooklyn - One Week In

Me and my shadow

It has been one week since my new little brother, Brooklyn, joined the family. I've been working with him and we're making good progress. He's responding well to my instruction. What helps a lot is that we're both Shar Pei. While we're not the same person, we do speak the same language. When I "Woof!" he knows exactly what I'm telling him most of the time.

What is up with the nose, dude?

Nothing demonstrates the importance of clear communication better than the trouble the kitties have had with him. I thought Simone had made herself clear to him, but she hasn't been able to in any permanent way. He just doesn't get that they really, really, really don't want to play with him. That's because he doesn't speak kitty. Still and all, you'd think he'd pick up on "Yowl!", "Hisssss!", or at least a claws out swipe. Every cloud has a silver lining, though. I really think that Simone and Happy are starting to bond a little at last.

You keep a look out. I have your back. Way, way back.

The moose is definitely Brooklyn's go-to stuffie for now. 

Don't be alarmed by the choke collar. That wasn't for training. From the human point of view he hardly needs any basic training. It was on there for a couple of days so that he could be walked safely. Due to Blog Mom's injuring her leg and her already damaged foot we haven't been able to go out and get Brooklyn a proper starter wardrobe. He's still wearing his collar from the shelter, which was a little big for him and not safe for walking on the street. Any extras of mine would be too big too, not to mention too girly. He's already filled that collar out so the chain is off. Once we get all Moms functional we'll all go out and get him his own leash and a properly sized collar and harness.

As I mentioned in a previous post, he needed to take Dog Bed 101 and we were already making good progress. I think we can agree that he's  passed that course with flying colors.

Synchronized Sleeping

I had to teach him not to bug me too much. That course is still in progress but he's doing much better. It doesn't hurt that now that he's gotten used to not having to spend his time in a crate he isn't as hysterical to be active every minute. We Pei can do zoomies with the best of them, but we are not generally hyper doggies and can even enjoy vegging out at a pretty young age. He's getting there.

The best thing of all is something we didn't catch on the flashy beast. We have achieved successful play! Somehow or other Daddy helped explain what to do to Brooklyn. Daddy's still not sure how, but it looked to me like he was demonstrating a little. So, on Thursday we had an abbreviated but successful play session during my lively period. My liveliest periods of the day are when I come out of my antihistamine induced languor. It's been a ruff summer, pawple. Yesterday we had a more extended play session which was a little rambunctious for the living room,  perhaps, but it's way too hot to play outside as far as I'm concerned.

The biggest adjustment for me is dinner time. I've gotten used to taking a leisurely approach to dining. When dinner is served I decide if it meets with my approval. If it does, I still might only eat half of it and come back later for a bit here and there as the evening goes on. It keeps the humans on their toes and they're pathetically grateful on the rare occasion when I decide to just eat dinner right up. You can't really do that in a two doggy household. Luckily, I'm experienced in living in a pack that includes other dogs, and I've been a mother as well. So, I'm learning all over again to eat with an eye to the competition. That's not to say that it's not going to be a huge problem for someone when they serve me something I'm bored with. I'm also used to being a picky eater and Brooklyn certainly seems to have the potential to be the same.

Brooklyn! Don't be so eager. Make them beg you to eat it.

 As far as Brooklyn's temperament and general personality are concerned - he's very sweet. He's a bit of a big baby and the name "Brooklyn" is just ridiculous for him. If you're named Brooklyn you should be either kind of tough or very cool in a hipster kind of way. Brooklyn is neither. We considered changing it, but he seems to know it and family policy is not to mess with adopted pets' heads too much. He's not a fearful dog, but he scares a lot easier than I do. He's clingy, too. His biggest problem is who to follow when we don't all stay in the same room. He naps with one eye open so he knows if anyone tries to get away. No one really minds, though, because he's clingy in a sweet, cute way, according to the humans. He doesn't lick, though. No licky kissies, which is kind of a shame because it's an area where we Pei excel. Maybe he was trained not to. Some humans don't like doggy kisses, which I think is totally ridiculous and my humans all agree.

One worrying thing is that he has no prey instinct whatever, as far as I can see. Do you know what I saw when I looked out the upstairs window this morning? Two squirrels on the ground within  ten feet of our back door and a variety of birds all kind of hopping around and my little brother, just drifting around as though there was nothing happening that required his attention. It looked like a forest scene out of Snow White if you overlook the parched, brown grass.What is up with that? When I go out and run after a squirrel Brooklyn runs after ME!  We'll have to work on this when the weather is cooler. If he's going to be here, he's going to help me double-team those tree rats.

Assessing Brooklyn

I've been doing some serious reflection and soul searching on the subject of my new little brother. I was a little startled at first, you understand. The biggest thing I was planning  to cope with last Saturday was a bath and it turned out that major life changes were in store. Plus the bath. But the fact is that I was rescued. Yes, I also rescued my humans. I rescued them from a life without me, Lola, which was simply not nearly as good as life with me. Be that as it may, I was the one living in a crate waiting for a furever home and I have been so very happy in the one I found. It would be wrong, wrong, wrong to be unwilling to Pei that forward and Brooklyn represents an opportunity to give someone else a bit of what I've got. Not to mention that giving him a home might get another doggy a little more time to find his or her forever home at the shelter. That doesn't mean  it's all peace, love and understanding every minute. And it doesn't mean I'm not going to call him Dorkface Boy from time to time, because sometimes that's what he is.

When you can take the pebble from my paw, Young Grasshopper, you will be allowed on the couch.

Of course there's rather a lot of distance between deciding that I should welcome the chance to make a pawsonal sacrifice and actually enjoying my little brother.We're just starting that journey. I hope it doesn't turn out to take forever. In all honesty I have to admit that he's going to be a pretty good dog if he learns a few things and gets a little more life experience. I just don't know how long that's going to take.

From the human perspective he's quite a find, like most Pei. He doesn't chew anything he's not supposed to. He doesn't think he's allowed on the furniture so he doesn't get up on it even though I do. We don't actually have that rule, but we're not telling him quite yet. He's totally housebroken.  Blog Mom was a little worried about that but charged ahead anyway. What's the matter with her? What happened was that on Saturday, while Alpha Mom and I were both getting groomed (same time, different shops) she sneaked went down to the shelter. It seems she'd been looking at the Petfinder site again and when there was a Shar Pei at the local municipal shelter she couldn't stop herself.  She got there, asked for him and he was brought out into this room they have for that kind of meeting. She wasn't worried when he went all crackadaisical, running all over, because she knew he was living in a crate and not everydog can handle that situation with the kind of poise that I did during my time in shelter. She was a tad concerned with the fact that he lifted his leg and marked in the room - indoors, pawple - every 15 seconds. Obviously, this didn't stop her and she went ahead and dragged invited Alpha Mom and me down to meet Brooklyn that same day. In fact, turns out our stop at Petco was to get him something to wear around the house in case this behavior continued at home. Not needed. Once in my our home he did not lift that leg once inside. He sits, and he even stays if you tell him just right. Not for long, but then I'm not one for the long stay myself unless I didn't want to get up anyway. He's barkier than I am, and they have mixed feelings about that. More of a guard dog, but also more of a nuisance. I don't much care either way.

That's the human angle. From the canine perspective he's a bit of a dunce. First off I had to demonstrate the purpose of a dog bed. We dragged out my old one for him to use for now. He seemed to think it was a giant stuffy.   He did pick that lesson up fairly quickly, I must admit.

Is this right, Big Sis?

He doesn't know anything about chasing squirrels or birds. Birds just walk around the yard , not even bothering to fly, when he's out there without me - and if he's out there it's without me if I have anything to say about it. I saw a squirrel just hanging out on a tree trunk not more than 3 feet from the ground with Brooklyn just standing there a couple of yards away. I think the squirrel was taunting him.

What I found out last night was that despite his constant and noisy demands that I play with him, he doesn't actually know how to do that either. He gets into play stance - you know, front down, haunches up and make all kinds of "C'mon, play with me. Let's go! Please, please, please!" noises,but he's all talk, no action. That was most clearly demonstrated in what will live forever as one of his most embarrassing  moments if I have anything to do with it. I was feeling expansive and lively after dinner so when he started I rolled over and made the appropriate noises indicating my willingness to do a little bitey face. He just stood there looking confused. But wait! It gets better. Being confused didn't stop him from starting the whole routine over again when I got up so I got in play position myself, only with haunches down and said, "OK, bring it. You want to romp? We'll romp right here in the living room."  Do you know what he did? He looked like a deer in headlights and very slowly lowered his back end onto the ground and then pretended that he just wanted to take a little rest anyway.

I think that was even funnier than the other day when I was interrupted from my morning nap by the sound of a terrifed "Yelp!!". Simone was chasing Brooklyn down the hallway and he was running as if for his life. Simone may be getting older but she's still got it. Happy's way of coping is different. He just sought higher ground until Simone schooled Brooklyn in the ways of the feline.

 It didn't take long and Hapless is already back in his basket. Simone doesn't mess around. I don't want you to think that Brooklyn is a total wuss, though. He did take down a moose.

 So, that's where we're at right now. It's a mitzvah to take him in and I'm OK with that. He's good raw material but needs a lot of molding and educating. And right now he's a pain in my tail.

The Biggest News Ever for Me, Lola

Yesterday was the most amazing, surprising day ever since the day I moved in here. I'm still in a bit of a tizzy over it, although you can't always tell that with me. I guess I'll just tell you about it from the beginning.  The day started out normally enough. I went for my bath. Alpha Mom picked me up and brought me home. Blog Mom was out, but came home shortly after. I sniffed right away that she'd been with another dog. Well, of course that happens once in a while, but I studied the smells on her pants very carefully. (This is foreshadowing.) Quite soon after she came home all three of us ladies got into the car to go out again. I couldn't imagine where we were going. It was pouring rain. I hate that. It was no weather for a noseventure, but here we were, heading out someplace.

Our first stop was a Petco store. I love shopping so that was fun. For some reason there was no flashy beast to capture me adorably standing up and putting my paws on the counter while we were checking out. I wanted to pawticipate in the whole shopping experience. After that  it was time to head home, right? Not so much.

Our next stop was a building that I'd never been to before. Or rather the parking lot of the building. There was a lot of barking coming out it and some very interesting smells in the air. Blog Mom went in alone and then came back out and then we all just sat in the car for a little while. This is just not making a lot of sense to me. Finally a lady came out the door, with a doggy on a leash. Normally I'm delighted to meet new furiends, but I don't care for hanging out in parking lots in the pouring rain and this is what it seemed was expected of us. The doggy sniffed me like mad and was all, "Hey, you're a Shar Pei! I'm a Shar Pe! How cool is that? My name's Brooklyn, what's yours?  Let's be best friends right now! We'll sniff each other and then we'll sniff some more and it'll be great!Please, please please." And I was all, "Some other time young dude. It's freaking raining cats and, er..cats out here. "

Next up in this whacked out scenario was to walk over to a fenced in spot, with an awning, thank Dog. There was also lots and lots of mud in there. Once in there, it was leashes off . I was interested in two things: Staying under the awning and climbing up on a bench that was there to get away from the mud. Young Brooklyn, despite clearly being a Pei, seemed oblivious to the rain and mud and just want to advance the friendship that we had not established. He sniffed me. I pretty much ignored him. We both had to jump up on the Moms from time to time to check in and cover them with mud. Served them right, seems to me. About this time, Blog Mom stepped backwards and into a sizable hole that was there. With her bad foot, of course. She yelped like she'd been bitten and, oh it was bad for a little while there. It's still bad today but not AS bad.

Ok, finally time to go home for really truly. We got our soaked, muddy selves back into the car, but hey, wait just a freakin' minute. Three of us had arrived and by my count there were four of us in the car now. What was up with that?  Could it be?

Hi I'm Brookyn! I'm very glad to meet....EVERYONE!

Yes, it could. It seems I've got myself a little brother, like it or not.  He's about a year and a half old and we got him from the town animal shelter. He was given up, according to his owners, because they had to move to a place where they couldn't have dogs. I'm sure they didn't mean to screw up like that, but he hadn't been neutered - the shelter did that. He needed entropion surgery, which you have to figure could happen if you get a Shar Pei puppy, and the shelter had to do that, too. He should have been treated for it as a puppy, but it didn't seem he was. In fact his eyes haven't finished healing from that yet. We're taking him to the vet next week to follow up on them.

You can kind of see here that they look funny, but you can't see how red they are all around the rims and I think there might be a couple of stitches still in.

So how did this happen? I gather it was Blog Mom's idea, but she was supported in this by the others. They give reasons - wanting another doggy to help me stay young and active and wanting to give back to the Shar Pei community, seeing as I turned out to be so nearly perfect that they didn't feel they'd paid enough dues or something. The people at the shelter were pretty happy that Brooklyn was going to a home with another Shar Pei. I do have to say that.  But I know the real reason. Shar Pei are like potato chips. It's really hard to stop at just one.  Of course, no one asked me, Lola. Oh, I suppose that meeting in the rain was supposed to be where they asked, but I don't think they explained the question very well. I'm still considering what I think of it all. I don't dislike him. He's kind of sweet, it's sort of interesting having him here and he's submissive to me, Lola.  Oh, and he loves, loves, loves me. Those are some of the positives.

Checking him out, trying to decide what I think.

 He always wants to play. If I play with him a little, he just wants to keep it up way longer than I feel like it. He loves, loves, love me and he follows me everywhere. EVERYWHERE. That can get old fast. I have a lot of work to do if I'm going to get him trained to suit my lifestyle. Those are a couple of the negatives.

C'mon! Play with me! I wanna play. I love you! Please, please play with me!

He barks when he's trying to get me to play. You see what I have to put up with? Life was very peaceful. However, it seems the family has made a commitment to Brooklyn already, so sending him packing is not going to be an option.

When I say he's always up my butt, I'm just telling it like it is.

 As you can see from this lovely shot, he's a different type of Shar Pei from me, Lola. He's more like the traditional Pei. He keeps all his wrinkles on this head. None on his body at all. And he's teeny bit taller than I am but he's a lot lighter. He has long thin legs. He looks skinny compared to me, but you can feel my ribs and not his. He'll probably fill out a little more by the time he's two, but not all that much. He does have a nice meat mouth, though. It's his best feature.

The kitties, of course, are none too pleased. He's not too bad about them. He doesn't mistake them for prey or anything, but I think he mistakes them for puppies and tries - you guessed it - to play with them. They don't want to play with him and they never, ever will. I tried to explain that but he doesn't get it yet.


Other general impressions are that he's as much a goody two paws as I am when it comes to house manners. He's also just as picky an eater. I like that. On the other paw, he does slobber rather a lot. I only rarely slobber. He seems to foam up at the drop of a leash. He's not doing it as much today as yesterday, though. So maybe it's the excitement and stress of moving into a new pack.

A decision was made by the human contingent that I would continue to sleep upstairs with Alpha Mom as always and Brooklyn would sleep downstairs. Blog Mom fully expected to have a fairly sleepless night with a young doggy in a brand new situation, whereas everyone was sure that, being given a break from Brooklyn, I would happily fall into bed and sleep deeply until morning. Well, you know the old saying, "Man plans, Dog laughs.". Turns out that Brooklyn totally gets lights out and spent a quiet night. I, on the other hand, could not seem to sleep. Which meant that Alpha Mom didn't get much sleep either.

I guess you can stay as long as you understand who's top dog. And I see that you do.

 So that  my furiends, is my big news. Life here is never going to be quite the same again. I'm leaning toward being OK with it, but I expect it'll be a bit of a rocky road while we adjust to our new situation. I do think that Brooklyn has some potential and if there must be little brother, he's probably as good a choice as any. I'm just not sure whether I wanted one or not. I suppose I'll be posting about our progress in establishing our new family configuration quite a bit for while. And I hope to get some advice from experienced older siblings like Ranger, Mango, Asa And  you can bet I will be turning to Twinkie's Advice Column quite a bit in the coming weeks, I think.