Despite the new pee stains on literally every upholstered piece of furniture in my house, there is something so rewarding and joyful about this particular foster pup.
Florian has been mispronouncing her name from the start, and the mispronunciation stuck, so we've been calling her Pager, or Paige, or Pagey, or Puppy-pee. Or Collette, when we get confused, or Sprocket.
Poor little thing. Are we doing damage to her malleable little psyche?
I'm pretty sure she'll be OK. When I look at the 8 scillion pictures I have already taken of her, there is a marked difference between those I took that first evening, and the ones I took just a day or two later.
The tongue is lolling out way more, the tail is wagging, the whites of the eyes are no longer showing.
And when I cuddle her, she just stays right there.
Allowing me to kiss her as long as I want, drinking in the good fortune of not being in that loud, unsettling shelter place anymore.
I've met very few dog noses that I didn't want to kiss, but some are just particularly scrumptious. How wonderful to have access to one like that full time!