For the uninitiated, Wynette is our new dog. We’ve had her for a week and a half, and she is, like, VERY cute. I mean, I know all pet owners think this of their pets, and I’m sure they’re all right. But Wynette is extra-cute.
She took a course in Puppy Dog Eyes and she totally aced the final exam. She also got very high marks in Being So Damn Cute All The Time, as well as an advanced seminar in 18th Century Ear-Floppery.
Jessica’s friend gifted us this very cute and shockingly loud little squeaky blue ball man-thing with feet and horns, and Wynette was pretty stoked:
It’s kind of hard for her to get her mouth around it, which is great because she’s not able to make it squeak its ear-shattering loudest without doing so. Most of the time she forces a series of little squawks out of it, punctuated by an occasional blast of aural pain.
Oh, she’s not without her frustrations. She’s kind of a spaz on walks, and she gets restless and pace-y most evenings around 8 or 9 and drives a us little bit bonkers by not sitting still.
Fortunately, she’s really a Good Dog. She’s learning to sit, is very well housetrained, and (usually) sleeps through the night. And she’s got her very first class in Doggie Obedience on Monday, first in a 6-part course. I’m sure she’ll do great, given her success in the higher level courses.
I also really like to pick her up. In fact, I’m like that with most animals: I just have to pick them up. Some cats like it, others aren’t so sure. With dogs, they’re not really hold-y types of animals, unless you’re talking about chihuahuas or others of that size. Wynette just sort of goes quiet when I do it, casually looking around in a state of mild confusion.
I’m sure she loves every second.