Posted on | 10 months ago, mid-afternoon | 7 Comments
But this is Greyson. That’s the name he came with, and that’s the name he’s keeping – oblique Batman franchise reference, etc. etc. etc.
(Never mind the spelling – that’s what’s on his records, so it can stay.)
Greyson is a 5-month-old Pyrenees mix, born in a tractor trailer lot somewhere in North Georgia. He was pulled from the pound in Catoosa County and moved to the Pet Placement Center – where we met him a couple of weeks ago – and now he’s moved here, to live with us in Rosebury Haunt.
The car-ride home wasn’t super-smooth; he was pitifully frightened of the experience, which makes sense when you figure he’s never been in a car except to shuttle from shelter to shelter, or to the vet. He barfed three times and anxiety drooled until he and I were both soaked, but when we got him to the groomers, he charmed the ladies silly – and came out of the whole thing smelling sweet as a rose.
Gentle, sweet, and peculiarly quiet for a pup, Greyson is definitely a leftie. When he wants your attention he doesn’t jump, bark, or tackle you – no, he just gives you his left paw and a pleading look.
And then you pretty much give him whatever he wants, because JESUS YOU GUYS would you LOOK AT THIS FACE.
We figure he’ll probably top out around 70-80 pounds, when all is said and done – and that’s fine. Even if we’re off by a fair margin of error, he’ll undoubtedly be the smallest dog I’ve ever lived with … and that might sound crazypants unless you know that I grew up with a Saint Bernard and then a Great Dane.**
So. I bet you’re wondering how the cat is taking all this.
In fact, the cat is idly curious – but not at all afraid, and not even terribly annoyed. (Right now, she’s curled up asleep on the daybed behind me, just like usual.) This is easy for her, partly because she’s spent plenty of time around large dogs – not least of all the aforementioned Great Dane – and also because Greyson hasn’t yet figured out that she’s not part of the decor.
At the Pet Placement Center, many of the cats roam free until nightfall – and as far as Greyson is concerned, all things feline are just background noise. She might as well be a lamp, or an end table. It’s kind of hilarious.
Mind you, I don’t think much will change once he becomes aware that she’s a member of the household. He’s very mellow and friendly, and he still has a touch of that “uncertain shelter dog” thing going on; when he doesn’t know what to do, he sits down, wags his tail a little nervously, and waits for instructions.
He is crate trained, fully vaccinated, neutered … and right now? He’s sacked out hard for a nap in the back room, beside his new chewy bone and a couple of toys.
In no uncertain terms, he is a Very Good Dog.
And we are very lucky to have him.
[Edited to add: - Bonus! Video of cat and dog and husband, for posterity.]
* As mentioned previously, this is the shelter from whence we adopted Spain the Cat back in 2002.
** Technically, when I was veeeery little we had a poodle for some reason. But the Saint Bernard arrived when I was about six years old, and seriously, a kid could not have asked for a better dog.