Everyone, meet Eddy. Eddy, meet everyone.
Monday, Alan and I drove to Yakima to meet a few Great Danes. After our last experience trying to adopt a dog, we were trying not to get our hopes up. We contacted the rescue agency, filled out an application, secured the first appointment of the day, and were told we would be able to see three Danes/Dane mixes and have the option to bring one home. We rolled into the yard around 9:45, to find the 3 year old Dane whose sounded perfect for us online looking beautiful. One small problem: his leash was in someone’s hand. His new mommy’s hand. Somehow, someone had beaten us to yet another dog.
While Alan and I exchanged stunned glances, the rescue staff brought out two other dogs, a beautiful and sweet 14 month old Dane cross that shed like nothing I’d ever seen, and a small, zippy, jumpy, wiggly missile of energy that had two goals in life: to lick your face and win your heart. After a few minutes of playing with this guy, and learning that he was already housebroken and crate trained (!) we decided he needed to come home with us. While we know something of his past history, whether his lineage is fully or partially Dane, we may never know. And really, we could care less.
In the short two days we’ve had Eddy, he’s completely won us over to dog ownership. He plays like a puppy, and then collapses on your lap and naps for a couple of hours. While he’s already 45 pounds and about 4 months old, Eddy should be growing at a rate of about a pound a day and needs his beauty sleep. Last night, he sat on the couch with Alan and I watching The Wire, until he fell so solidly asleep that he slid off the couch and onto the floor with a *thunk*, upside down. He just kept snoring, paws in the air. Seriously, how could you not fall in love with that?