On Memorial Day, one of our two dogs DFO'd. (That's forensics lingo for "Done Fell Over," if CSI is to be believed.) That brings our pet death count for past 12 months to three, with the squishing of two cats taking place last summer and fall. I'm tired of burying dead animals.
The one surviving Pekingese, DJ, has been a wreck since his brother died. Won't eat, mopes around, etc. Probably sexually frustrated as well, seeing as how I made great sport of the fact that he would climb on his brother, or any of the cats (when they were all still alive) and start humping away.
We decided that it was time to find another companion for DJ, as well as for Son to have a puppy of his own. To that end, my brother-in-law showed up last night with a puppy in tow. She is a lab-beagle mix, and as noted by the foreshadowing in the title of this post, black. (Led Zeppelin IV - or "Zoso" - track 1, for those not versed in classic rock radio.)
The puppy's arrival, of course, has reinvigorated our legacy dog. So much, in fact, that he started immediately marking the entire pen, save for about an 18-inch spot near the pen's exit, where the puppy sat frozen. Quite comical, really, but I half-expected to come out this morning and find her torn in half. Instead, she started making the pen her own, which chagrined DJ to no end (for instance, she booted him from his doghouse, as I found him this morning sleeping near the food bowl, while she was sleeping inside).
As of right now, Son has determined that the puppy's name shall be Puppy. Or Choo-Choo.
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Please note: My policy at Bramble Tamble is to not use real names for private citizens. I hope you will adhere to this policy; hell, it's my only rule here. (But you can use your own real name if you'd like. Cause I'm magnanimous like that.)