Here she is, Roxie, the super dog. I have never known such gentle, trusting, lovable cuddler. I have never allowed a dog to sit on my lap or to sit on the furniture, but I find myself reaching for her, coaxing her up onto my lap. I am a changed man when she is in the room.
Lest you think that she is a perfect angel and can do no wrong, I have to tell you about her first night here in her new home. She is very curious about her surroundings and seems to be storing all the information she learns by watching every move we make. We put her bed, a big cushion, in the kitchen under the church pew. She knew it was her bed without our needing to tell her, making herself comfortable. So naturally we thought she would be content there all night.
A few minutes after we turned off the lights for the night, we heard a peculiar noise coming from the kitchen. We couldn't immediately identify the sound, so fearing what the dark had hidden, I boldly ventured into the scary black hole. I reached for the nearest light switch to stymie the darkness and was rewarded with the strangest sight I've ever seen.
Roxie had managed to push aside the gate we had put in the doorway between the kitchen and dining room, as a way to control her wandering around and getting into anything that a dog should not get into, but she was still in the kitchen, eschewing the opened gate and the freedom it represented for something that she must have thought was more interesting or exciting or enticing to a curious intelligent dog.
She greeted my entrance into the kitchen with what I would describe as a "who me?" look of false innocence that nearly had me convinced that she was placed on the table by some gang of elves just passing by. She can be very convincing. But she was really laying on me a disdainful look that said, "you mere human. Did you really think that you could confine me with a silly little gate?" She gave me that look from her perch on the kitchen table, which she had begun to clear off so she could be more comfortable. The newspaper was across the room near the refrigerator. I could swear that I had left it on the table. The magazine I had left there was on the floor and one of the placemats joined it there. The noise we had heard that brought us to the scene of the crime must have been the falling lamp that was now on the bench. Who knows what other mischief she would have gotten into if we would have ignored that unfamiliar noise. All this happened in less than a minute. If nothing else, she is damn efficient.
We got her back into her bed where she actually stayed for the rest of the night. I know that most of your would say crate her at night or when you are away so she can't into trouble. But my instincts say this dog would be very unhappy confined in a cage, and would likely make a commotion worse than anything she would do with the freedom to roam around. We solved the problem by allowing her spend the night in our room on her bed, not ours. She just wants to be near us, the rest of her pack. And really, how could I resist such a loving addition to my pack.
As long as Roxie continues to make me smile and not scowl, she will be welcomed in my home.