Friday, June 12, 2009

The Coming of Chloe

This is as close as the puppy can get to Casper, so far.

Well, it's her own fault. When we arrived at the farm she herself growled at the big dog first.

What I then had was a baby feeling sorry for herself, howling and whining, and dogging my footsteps. She even yipped and trotted back toward the van, twice, turning to me as if to say "How 'bout taking me back where I came from?"

She's no dummy, but she is younger than I realized because she has been mournfully crying a little.

Karen said that when she and her siblings were picked up, the little girl who lived at their birthplace had names for them all, and this one was Chloe. That seemed a silly name for a dog, but already I find it suits her.