Three Dog Night

Before you read this post, I encourage you to go here first and learn about Truman.

Truman got a new home.  He was adopted by a guy who works with Wade.  I don’t know if said guy didn’t think things through or just doesn’t know how to deal with a dog – especially an active one – but the guy is starting to give up on Truman.  Truman is a GOOD dog.  He’s sweet as can be, smart, and adorable.  He does, however, need training.  Big time.  And I suppose that is what this guy has a problem with; he doesn’t want to put in the time or effort.  Most dogs don’t come trained…it’s part of the deal, dude.

Everyone Wade works with decided (thank you) that Truman should live with us.  Now, you know me, I LOVE dogs.  All animals.  But really, a third dog??? 

Supposedly the guy needed a dog sitter last night, so Wade brought Truman home.  I am fine with that, so Truman came home with Wade.

We took all three pups to the dog park for a good romp (side note: It was Freezing). They ran and ran and ran and played and played and played (and I shivered).  Surely the pups would be tired out. 


Like anyone/thing in a new place.  Truman didn’t really know what to do with himself.  He was unhappy with the crate (which is a requirement for all pups in our house when a.) they are new + b.) we are eating).  Also, he’s a boy upon exploring his temporary digs he attempted the leg lift (NO!!!!!!!!!!).  And then it was bedtime…

He was sleeping soundly in the crate so Wade and I crept upstairs without waking him.  Just as REM sleep approached the barking-howl ensued.  Wade told me to ignore it and he’d fall asleep.  I tried.  Wade fell asleep.  Truman did not.  Nor did I. 

Wade eventually got up and took Truman outside.  We decided to give it a shot with Truman in our room. 

Picture this:

1 King-sized bed.
1 100-lb. Woolly-Coated Alaskan Malamute.
1 20-lb. Beagle (who, when sleeping becomes 47 lbs.)
1 Full-grown man
1 Full-grown woman
1 Walker Hound of approx. 50 lbs. who is very lanky.

The above is the order in which we were laying and as a result no one moved.  All night.  Where were the cats?

I’m not sure that I’m a three-dog kind of girl.  But I’m also not to willing to let the guy give up on Truman.  What to do, what to do? 

Anyone want a very sweet dog?


~ by zuzu on March 25, 2009.

One Response to “Three Dog Night”

  1. It’s that nightmare of everyday life: the bigger the space, the more things/bodies we end up filling it with.
    Poor Truman, I hope things work out to the good for him. Sounds like he’s a willing and intelligent learner, if that write-up is correct.

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