Indeed it does take some time to get the shelter out of the dog once the dog is out of the shelter, but six months seems a bit excessive. Or maybe I've just been blessed with more psychologically resilient canines.
The honeymoon period for Tia and my relationship is officially over. Sure, she's still the sweetie who enjoys a good a cuddle, and in fact will go out of her way to make sure that some part of her is touching me while she's sleeping (i.e., just the tip of her bottom jaw on my arm). But the night she attempted to pull a Harry, I knew she was over trying to explicitly please me and onto having her own opinions.
I had informed her that she was only allowed on my bed when I invited her. That is to say, that I would help her up once I was ready for bed. She has a habit of following me everywhere, and if she got up onto the bed the first time I walked into the bedroom, twenty minutes of up and down maneuvers would ensue. (Note: if you ever want to know exactly how inefficient your bedtime routine is, have a dog follow you the entire time).
Tia had held to this rule for the most part, but the other night while I was in the bathroom getting ready for bed, I heard a commotion. Usually Tia is lying right outside the bathroom door, and I couldn't seem to reconcile what the actual ruckus had been. It sound muffled and then the sound of dog claws skidding across the kitchen floor.
I opened the door, and Tia was just turning around from the kitchen to face me. But here's where she just couldn't pull off a Harry in completion. Rather than the straight man head-cock of "What? I didn't hear anything," Tia fumbled, sat down awkwardly, couldn't stop her tail from wagging as if laughing from an incident only known to her, and of course: the shit-eating grin. It's called that because it usually appears shortly after a dog has eaten shit. I knew that wasn't the case, saw no harm in the kitchen, and closed the bathroom door again.
Moments later, Tia escorted me back to the bedroom, and there I found the blankets on the bed in some disarray, although not as if she had actually gotten up fully--just as if she had struggled to maintain her footing. The muffled sound was her forty pound muscular body hitting the bedroom floor, and the kitchen skid was her reaction to falling: running full force back to the bathroom door, and then slowing herself by turning quickly into the kitchen.
She's a smart one, but she hasn't topped Harry yet.
Tia also has moved on from the fluffy toys with torn seams. She's onto the hard bones (which is much more appreciated than say, a table leg). She's starting to become more independent, at times staying where she's at to play on her own rather than follow me into my office. However, now that I know she enjoys the taste of wood, I'm concerned I'm going to walk back into the living room and find my coffee table has only three legs left.
Due to a computer emergency, I had to leave Tia on her own for a short spell. I turned on the TV, told her to watch the show, and that I'd be back shortly. When I returned, I opened the door to find her lying on the couch, fully engrossed in the TV show. She didn't even bark when I opened the door. So, let's take "guard dog" off her list of possible occupations. Her only request from a burglar would be to please pop some popcorn for her and leave it on the table so she might finish watching her "stories."
I have left her alone for short times (under an hour) to run errands, and usually (if the TV isn't on), she's right where I left her, sitting or lying in the same spot. I'm hoping she is pulling a Harry, and running around doing stuff, only returning to the same spot when she hears my key in the lock. Otherwise, I'd just feel bad.
Tia really is a great dog. She can easily be calm and lay on the couch when watching a movie, or play and run around when space and time allow. I thought for sure we'd get multiple hits on her adopt-a-pet page. We got one, within 24 hours. The couple and their dog sounded like a great match. Their dog's name was Titus, and who wouldn't want Tia and Titus to be sister and brother? They had a big backyard, lots of time to spend with her, and even held dog block-parties in their yard for the neighborhood canines to come and play.
But of course, it was merely a tease. Not on purpose of course, but the couple had been looking at another dog, and were about to have their second meeting with him. What kind of dog would be better than Tia, you ask? A three-legged special needs dog that had been at a shelter for over a year. Even though the adopter really really loved Tia, she felt that her family could help and rehabilitate this dog in need. A part of me wished they could have been dicks about it, and I would think, "Good! Tia shouldn't live with them anyway!" But instead, her excuse was the equivalent of saying, "I'm sorry I can't help with your food drive this weekend. I signed up to help build a school for impoverished children in a third world nation instead."
I do worry that Tia will have the same problem that Harry had: everyone assumed he was so adoptable, no one tried to adopt him. He wasn't needy enough. Tia is not only a pretty girl, but social and sociable. But just like the prettiest girls don't get asked out because guys assume other people are already dating her, I'm afraid everyone will assume Tia has enough suitors already.
So here's the announcement: Tia is single! I'm just her transitional person, and she is seeking a soulmate to spend the rest of her life with. Everyone who meets her seems to want to be "the one," but no one's putting in an application. Tia can't stay here forever, nor should she. She deserves a big backyard, doggie get togethers in which she hosts, a big brother to play with, and a human who builds schools in third world nations. (Okay, we can live without that last criteria... how about just a really good example of a human being who loves Tia with her whole heart?) I don't think that's too much ask for a dog who is simply some kind of wonderful.
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