The little red dog …


The little red dog ... Mae-Mae
The little red dog ... Mae-Mae

… is an absolute joy.  And the resilience and adaptability of the canine never ceases to amaze me.  Mae-Mae — our little puppy mill survivor — has been here five weeks now.  Other than watching her a little more closely to monitor her house training, you’d think she’s been here forever.  Nothing short of astounding as she lived her entire life in a puppy mill.  Many of the mill dogs are fearful, having had little human contact, and their adjustment can take months or even years.  Some never get over the trauma.

Mae-Mae sleeps through the night in her crate.  She toilets appropriately having decided the grass is more “user friendly” than the concrete or stone patios.  She knows what “outside, go potty” means .. and will do exactly that … walk outside into the grass and go potty.  She dances for her food bowl and will take a treat from my hand.  She delights in being petted and will seek out this attention.  She is comfortable being picked up as she no longer splays her front legs out, stiff as a board and as wide as they’ll spread.  My Apsos are not lap dogs per se; however Mae-Mae definitely is and a favorite evening pasttime entails curling up next to me on the couch.  She probably thinks she’s died and gone to heaven.  In her five weeks here, she’s taught herself — with little input from me — to walk nicely on a leash.

Her greatest joy, I believe, is having the freedom to run in the yard.  Zoom, zoom … there she goes with a happy grin on her face.  Sometimes she just sits and suns herself, contented to soak up the warming rays.  I would surmise that her former surroundings were rather dark and dismal.

Sugar doesn’t come any sweeter than this little red dog …

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