I've said a million times before (and probably on here, once or twice) that I'm not much of a dog person. Most of that stems from the fact that my lone childhood canine fell over dead in a heap in front of me. TRAUMATIC. But this past Sunday, when I Mike suggested we stop at the shelter and "look at puppies," I didn't skip a beat when replying "Yes!" (NOTE: This may be chalked up to the fact that it was our first outing sans children in two weeks, which is a long time for us) (FURTHER NOTE: I probably should have been a bit more weary since the other two times in our lives we went to "look at puppies," I ended up pregnant. This correlation is just weird.)
So we went to the shelter, looked at some dogs, and then headed home since it was too close to their closing time to put in an application. Mike had his eye on a boston terrier mix, and after discussing it, we decided we'd take the boys to meet her on Monday night.
I'll keep it short & sweet--she did not like the boys. And watching her knock Nolan down twice didn't exactly endear her to this mama either.
And so we asked to see the dog two doors down--a two-year-old sheppard mix named Sasha. She was a HIT. She loved the boys, she wanted to play, and she barely made a peep! The only problem? Someone else had her on hold through the end of the evening. So we put a second hold on her in case those folks never showed.
THANK GOD THOSE FOLKS NEVER SHOWED.
So we picked "Sasha" up last night and promptly changed her name to Molly. Aiden wanted Dory (I convinced him that maybe this wasn't the best idea since she doesn't exactly look like a blue fish), and I wanted Moxie, but Molly seems to fit.
We brought her home, and it literally feels like she's always been here. We can tell she's been crate trained, but decided just to trust her last night and only gate her into the kitchen. I had worries of her whimpering all night, but Miss Molly barked twice (maybe she was in Milwaukee? TEE-HEE. Sorry.) and that was IT. She couldn't have had a better first night.