I told Jim I just wanted one puppy in my life so I could have one “normal” dog. Zoe is far from normal. When Zoe was six weeks and already spayed (hello! that’s too young) we endured the application process and picked her but she was already taken so we looked at a male Bernese mix.
The next morning we got a call that the potential adopters passed on our Zoe (then named Camilla) and had the flea-ridden, worm-infested puff ball we named Zoe – Greek for Life – jumping out of the cardboard carrier onto my lap. Whenever she errs, my husband says “We should have gotten the dumb one!”
I must say she’s always been a traveler and loves the car. Pops her head up on an off-ramp or traffic light and sleeps all the time on the road.
We did have to take her hips out. She’s still cow-hocked as she’ll always be but can lose a Retriever around a tree in an instant. Just ask folks back home, they call her Swivelhips.
She can also kill a mouse and if she was paying attention this morning could have gotten her first squirrel, three feet away and grooming himself. He wanted to leave a pretty corpse! But I let her attentions go elsewhere so she only saw said squirrel when he was at least 15′ up the tree.
What is a normal dog? Ours loves people and other dogs, and cats, but will kill a mouse or squirrel. She loves her favorite toy. Anyone can reach into her food bowl and give or take food and she’s OK with it. I would trust her with anyone.
Does she like us? She follows and herds me because I’m the walk lady and food wench. My husband is the fun guy. I like to think that the shelter didn’t kill her, she lived to find people who care for her, and that we’re all luckier in the process. Here’s to a No Kill Nation, Dee
Cooking with Dee 