A New Addition to Team Linguere

Either I have a habit of adopting pets in this country, or they have a habit of finding their way to me.



Meet Helen Keller. (I had nothing to do with the name.) My replacement, Ann Marie, found Helen among a group of kids in the bush outside Barkedji. She was crying and hungry, and her tail was broken. Ann Marie was afraid the pup would be further injured or killed by the kids, so she took her home.

Of course, we've played this game before with the family in Barkedji, and they still didn't want a dog at the house. Thus, Helen came to Linguere and I, pushover that I am, became de facto mother. I've been trying fruitlessly to housebreak and train her for the last week. The puppy verdict: She's lucky she's so darn cute. And if there was ever any question, I'm definitely not ready for motherhood. I'm exhausted.




Sparky, who got neutered yesterday to quell his urges to run away, is groggily and grudgingly tolerating her antics. When she climbs on him or chews on his tail, he just growls under his breath. But I have to say, Helen is not the sharpest pencil in the box. On those rare occasions that Sparky snaps, like when she tries eating from his bowl during feeding time, she squeals and runs away, but is back at it ten seconds later. What's that textbook definition of insanity? Doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results? I'm starting to wonder about Helen.



Poor Sparky.