Despite advice to the contrary, my own included, we felt like this little malti-poo was destined to be part of our family. On our way home from celebrating Father’s Day at my dad’s, we stopped at the pet store. Oatmeal met the little guy in a playroom and reacted to him as expected–by hiding under the bench. The little guy was so ecstatic, jumping around like a little bean. He’s just too cute for words, so here’s a picture:
Sorry for the blur, but you get the idea of how much Tom likes the little guy.
We decided to bring him home in a crate, both for his comfort and for Oatmeal’s as well. He doesn’t like being put in the crate at first-he whines, cries and even barks a little. But he settles down pretty quickly and seems to like having a space to himself.
Well, we’ve only had him a few hours and so far so good. We chose the name Roscoe, and though it could change, I have a feeling it’s going to stick. Roscoe’s been out of his crate to play (he plays with toys!) and sniff around. Oatmeal tries to ignores him but runs away when he gets close. I think she’ll be okay, but it’s a big adjustment for her. I do feel guilty for upturning her world so suddenly, but she’s sleeping soundly beside me as I type this, so she must know on some level that everything’s going to be alright.