Just for the record: Pooka arrived in my life a few weeks ago, but another family was already signed up to adopt her. I didn't get too attached, but when I heard they returned her to the Humane Society because she was "horrible" about chasing and cornering their cat, I rushed to the rescue. Meant to be! Or something.
She cleared the landlord-test (B and C adored her) and was ready to come home with me last Friday night...until I was stricken with food poisoning. Needless to say, Saturday and Sunday were a grim blur of anxiety and exhaustion and dread. What is this wild animal in my living room, this snorty, sniffing thing?
Highlights: Pooka runs fast. She loves meeting new dogs. She plays a little rough with her big-dog peers, but mostly just sniffs and backs away from those little furball yippers she meets around town. She broke out of her crate once because she really, really, really needed to go to the bathroom, poor thing, but otherwise is very well-behaved. She does not sit on the couch. She likes chewing on smoked meaty bones and, I kid you not, bull penises. She doesn't really get "fetch," but the squeaky tennis ball is really, really interesting.
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