I Like My Cute Little Rescue Dog

Yup, I like my cute little rescue dog.  Well, mine and my husband's rescue dog I should say.  I'm not really a dog person, but this is a pretty cute and sweet little dog.  Hubster's the dog guy and he's working wonders with this damaged little critter.  Doggie is Chihuahua/Dachshund and we don't really know what we're calling him yet. The county pound we got him from called him Gandalf the Gray.  I started calling him GG because Gandalf was really a silly name for such a little cute cat-dog.

But, hubster's taken to calling him Peppy (he spells it Pepe), and that's probably going to be his name.  It's really a wishful thinking kind of name because he's a scared little dog.  Fortunately, he doesn't bark.  He doesn't chew on things.  He doesn't have accidents, even when excited (well, okay, he barfed a couple of times, but well, I have too when I'm nervous).  He doesn't jump, he doesn't lick, in fact, he's pretty much had the dog beaten right out of him and he's also clearly been a chew toy for a larger dog by the scars and healing sores all over him.  He's blind in one eye because it's scarred from a puncture, and we don't know how old he is because his teeth say he's young, but his body says old.  In fact, we only had to pay the senior adoption fee.

Hubster getting GG to actually trust and play a little,
holding the bully stick tight so he can chew on it.

But, after only a week of hubster working very carefully and lovingly with him (hubster is so totally a dog whisperer - I'm pretty much lost and keep doing the wrong thing, but I'm learning), he actually can come over to us almost like a real creature without slinking over.  He's actually playing just a little and wagging his tail.  He's even pranced around happily a few times.










Yup, he's a good little dog and I like him.  I'd love to go on about horrible people, but well, I don't like them so they have no place on my blog about stuff I like. So, GG, Pepe, or whatever your name is, welcome!