It has been a bad year.  We haven't blogged, because it was too depressing to talk about sad stuff.  We weren't sure if we would be able to keep Gracie, because she has never learned proper potty training, and that was too scary to blog about.  Also, THE TALL MAN's Father passed away last month, after a brave fight with cancer.

We fought and fought.  And we lost.  Our whole family helped Papa fight his cancer, but we lost.  We also lost our best attempts to potty train Gracie.  That said, we decided that we couldn't give her back for tinkle troubles.  We don't give up on puppies.  She wears a diaper for most of the day, and she doesn't seem to mind.  Please don't email potty training advice, since we've exhausted the subject with the help of knowledgeable people.  Her accidents are decreasing, so there's still hope.

Despite a troubled, downer year, we still have a lot to be thankful for this Thanksgiving.  Sophie, Gracie and I, Maggie Grumble, have dry fur while it is raining outside right now.  Our bellies are full.  We have four legs that work.  We are thankful for car rides, Ritz crackers and days when we are not dressed up in costumes.  We are thankful for our people who hold us up, smiling, and ask, "Who's a baby puppy girl?".  They always answer for us.  "YOU ARE!" 






             

I've decided that when Gracie wants to lay next to me, I won't walk away.  I can share naps. 

Gracie is getting the point.  If she is aggressive, she looses LADY privileges.  Growling gets her removed from the LADY'S lap.  She won't growl around the TALL MAN or Me anymore.  There is an ever so slight throat  rumble when Sofie walks by.   She still cries at night when we are put into our crates.  I certainly can relate to crate anxiety.  I used to do the same thing.  I'm starting to look at Gracie now.  When she cries in the crate, I look at her and say, "it's not so bad.  You'll be ok."  

    

Gracie's potty training continues.  To keep everyone in a good sense of humor, there was an industrial worksite accident sign added to the fridge.  Right after the LADY took this picture, beaming with pride, she immediately posted it to Facebook.  While she was on the computer, Gracie peed on the floor.  Here was the LADY's next Facebook post:

We've had several "0" days.  Maybe Gracie used puppy pads and was allowed to pee inside at her last house.  Maybe she just got into a bad habit after staying at the shelter.  The LADY is very worried.  She doesn't want to give Gracie away, but will if she doesn't stop peeing in the house.    

The TALL MAN came over to pet Gracie while she was on the LADY'S lap.  She growled and snapped and him.  Everyone is shocked.  Since I have been in this house, no one has ever growled-except for an occasional empty belly.  Gracie was immediately thrown off the LADY'S lap and was "corrected".  The people quoted their favorite movie, the Big Lebowski and both said, "this aggression will not stand".   And they mean it.   

        

When we went to pick up Gracie, she cried all the way home.  Boy, she is L-O-U-D.  Once home, she was walked for a long time outside.  We came inside and she received a tour, on leash.  She was supervised in one room, and we all settled into our beds.  But what did she do?  Gracie popped a squat in front of the television.  That's right, she peed on the carpet.  She looks like a house dog, but she sure acts like a rabbit.  Like I said earlier, she smells funny, and I'm not sure about this new dog thing.  At all.  Sofie and I have decided not to look at her.  We are refusing eye contact as an act of uncertainty and protest.    

Post from the LADY:  There is a special agony involved in having an unnamed dog.
The responsibility of picking the right name always weighs on me heavily.  I consider everyone who will be calling the dog's name and I don't want to choose anything too far out that would make others feel uncomfortable.  For example, I can't picture our fathers calling out the back door for "baby girl".  I made lists of dozens of names; all were shot down by my husband.  I had given up hope and posted for help on Facebook.  My friends suggested Gracie, which sounded well adjusted and sweet.  Click Here for a list of some of my rejected names.   

We had a family meeting, and decided to add Bug, the new dog, to our pack.  Mostly the meeting was THE LADY asking, "PLEASE" and the man asking, "Are you sure?"

The New dog's name is Bug.  We renamed her, since bugs squish easily and are pesky. It was really hard coming up with a new name.  She almost was named Scrappy, since she was definitely that.  We didn't want her to stay that way though.  we wanted her to find inner peace and to be able to relax.  We named her Gracie, at the suggestion of our friends.  

                 
                           

I'm well adjusted now.  I don't cry anymore when my people leave.  I'm not so scared or sad.  I understand how life works here.  I know that when my people leave, they will always come back for us.  I've given up begging for food and I'm an all around great dog. My medical problems are better.  I've been told that it's now time to help out a new dog who needs a home.  Sofie is doing the best that she can, but she isn't much company.  She sleeps ALL the time and she often doesn't feel very well.  When I can, I'll lay next to her and sleep so she knows that she has a friend.   

My LADY wants me to have a new friend, who is closer to my own age, but I'm not sure yet how I feel about that.  We went to the shelter to look at a new dog.  I didn't like this, because going to the shelter brings back a lot of bad memories.  This new dog smells funny, and  I'm just not sure about this whole new dog thing.  I'm really not sure.