For those of you who aren't in the know, a month to the day after we took Daphne the Dane in as our foster pooch Spouse announced that she would not be going anywhere else. He was going to adopt her and make our house her forever home. She now rules our house with an iron paw. What happened to that timid, beautifully mannered girl who never entered a room without permission or asked for a morsel from the kitchen without an invitation?
I'll tell you where she is. She's sprawled across the couch or my bed! She's tripping me in the kitchen as I attempt to make a hot meal in peace. She's attempting to climb in the lap of a guest foolish enough to stop by for a quiet visit. She's shoving my elbows for a pet any time I try to sit down to write a letter. She is "fertilizing" all my newly planted flower beds for me or lifting the latch on the backyard gate and sauntering loose in the front yard because she's certain I need company when I'm washing the car or trimming the hedges.
In short, she's becoming what my mother would call "A Real Dog". She may never know what a dog toy is for or learn how to run and play with the children without worrying but at least she feels comfortable enough with us to occasionally be a nuisance. Given the choice between an insecure perfect houseguest and a comfortable, lovable nuisance, I'll take my mooching, slobbery, bed hogging, couch sprawling mess of a pooch any day. The Real Dog has turned our house into a Real Home and I can't thank her enough.