Tag Archives: adorable

The Orange Dog

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERAWe got Augie on October 23rd, 2012. It took me since we got Pickle (April of 2011) to convince Nitram that a lone dog is a lonely dog. It took Pickle and Augie five days (I thought it would be much longer) to become inseparable.

This is Day 3:

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This is Day 5:

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This is about 6 weeks later:

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Augie is a Boxer/Whippet/Pit Bull mix — about half Boxer for the most part. When we got her from a local rescue, she was 30 pounds and still suffering from mange. She looked to be about 5 years old, with a permanent worry in her face.

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Two months later she was almost 40 pounds and  fit, and one of the happiest dogs I’ve ever seen. Dr Fitch had said Augie was barely 2 years old (good teeth!) and would “fill out.” She sure did. We thought we were getting a dog only a few pounds larger than Pickle, and ended up with a 40-pound galoot who leaves muddy footprints, sand, grass, debris, and general awesomeness everywhere she goes.

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Augie also leaves farts everywhere she goes. They’re horrifying, room-clearing. I looked up Boxers and it turns out that they unfortunately have a high incidence of death by flatulence — their human’s death, that is. I’ve had to keep a bottle of natural organic lavender air freshener on the bedside table so I don’t suffocate in my sleep. I found out that Boxers also have the longest tongues of any dog, so that explains that humongous piece of sliced ham hanging about 18 inches out the side of her mouth.

We’ve taken to calling Augie the Orange Dog and Pickle the White Dog when we don’t want them to know we’re talking about them. It’s still working — they haven’t  figured out their colors yet.

I asked Nitram not too long ago if after not wanting another dog, could he ever imagine living without Augie.

He said, “No way.”

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I Am a Singularity

That’s right. A singularity. Look it up.

Not only is there just one of me, but I am unique in all other ways as well. And, there is only one of my name, as in “Pickle.” NOT “Pickles.” Just “Pickle.” P-i-c-k-l-e. Again: P-i-c-k-l-e-NO S.

Geddit?You’d better.

When people say, “Pickles?” Mom and Dad often wish they hadn’t named me Pickle. They smile and say (usually it takes more than once to get it across), “No, it’s Pickle,” while in their heads thoughts like, Do you see more than one dog here? and PickLLLL! and Just one fucking Pickle, and Asshole race around as their smiles stretch a bit thin. It’s a long story, but my name actually means something other than the sound “pick-le.” It certainly does not mean “pickles.”

I am not a plurality; I am, as I said, a singularity. After this, you shouldn’t be making a mistake about that or about my name.

Now that that’s settled, it’s blankie time.

~Pickle

Who’s Your Daddy?

When Nitram came home tonight, Pickle was thrilled to see him. She wiggled herself all over the place and mushed herself onto him and she was so happy. So was he!

It’s lasted all night, too. He took her out for a short walk and she went right with him without a backward look. He had her sit for the leash on/off, and for a treat, and before being invited onto the couch next to him (where he was promptly conscripted to belly rubbing).

She’s been really relaxed all evening. She’s in her chair in the living room now, while he watches TV in there. All is well in Pickle’s house. :)