Crosblog

Let's see...had dinner with friends, that was good. Watched a boatload of football, also good. Didn't get much shopping done, but we did pick up one thing...



Say hello to our newest family member. He's another Keeshond, born October 1, and since he's a member of a Dutch breed owned by Americans of Italian and Irish descent, obviously he needs a Russian name. (The crazy redhead took Russian in college.) We settled on Smutyan (pronounced SmooTYAHN, at least I think it is), which I am told means "troublemaker." (I studied German in school, which if I used it to name our dogs, would result in something with 13 syllables and three umlauts.)

In any event "troublemaker" is a perfect name for him. Don't get me wrong, there is nothing on planet earth that is cuter than a nine-week old Keeshond puppy.



But there's a secret that people who have new puppies don't tell people who see new puppies and go "AWWWWWWW!" Puppies are jerks. Not intentionally, but still. Should their tiny puppy brains tell them they need food, water, attention, or the opportunity to poop, they are incapable of waiting until a suprisingly close Eagles-Patriots game goes to commercial, for instance.



Here, Smutyan enjoys a wet washcloth that has been placed in the freezer. Behind him somewhere sits $100 or more of scientifically designed dog toys that have been ignored since purchase.

The newcomer's presence has so far, not sat well with our current canine occupants, especially Otchki, whom Smutyan has decided is the single greatest thing ever.



"Seriously, what is that little bitey thing that keeps following me around, and when is it leaving?"

On the one hand, I feel terrible to have upset his world like this, but on the other hand, he's really being a giant drama queen about the whole thing. Part of the problem, I think, is that Otchki doesn't have a violent or aggressive bone in his body, and doesn't really consider the prospect of a forceful response, leaving him with two choices:

1. Bark at the new puppy, which only serves to egg him on, if it has any effect at all, and,
2. Run away, which encourages the puppy to chase him.

Sigh - my dog - the Dennis Kucinich of the animal kingdom.

Koshka's dealt with it a little better, in part because Koshka has several violent bones in her body, and is better equipped to communicate to the new puppy that his life does in fact depend on him leaving her the hell alone. Of course, given her age and reduced reaction time, her carrying out these threats would practically require Smutyan to leap directly into her jaws. Yesterday, I spent an entertaining ten minutes watching him apparently attempt to do just that. She got him once, and he left her alone and moved on to aggravating Otchki.

Note to Democrats running for President - there's a lesson in there someplace.

I know the new dog takes some getting used to - Mishka needed a while to warm up to Koshka, who needed a while to warm up to Otchki, so I'm sure that Otchki will in time accept Smutyan. And given Otchki's gentle nature, I know that Smutyan will actually live long enough for them to learn to get along.

Note to Republicans running for President - there's a lesson in there someplace.

Anyways, there he is, he says hi, and we're thrilled to have him in our family.



Or at least we will be, as soon as we get him housebroken.