Bunny's down for Cattle Dog chats

This is when I knew Bunny was a keeper:

Cattle Dog chats.
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I sat on the porch a few days ago enjoying my Cattle Dog frozen hot chocolate, extra chocolate. Bunny and I were jabbering about something when I got up and walked into another room.

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A few minutes later I saw Bunny in the crate, pawing at one of her toys.

So I thought.

Bunny had managed to snatch my Cattle Dog cup when I wasn’t looking and was about to devour the remaining frozen hot chocolate.

Somehow, the lid didn’t come off so all we had there was relieved chuckling instead of a milky mess.

My two-week Slumber Party has concluded, and Bunny now has a permanent home at Just Wright Citrus World Headquarters on the shores of Big Lake Henderson.

Bunny is still technically the property of Citrus County taxpayers and will remain so until after her heartworm treatment concludes in February. She’s slumming at my place until the deal is done.

We are doing quite well, thanks for asking. Some Bunny points:

— From what I hear, the question is not so much what I name the dog, but what the dog is to call me. Am I this dog’s owner? Daddy? Big brother? Pal?

While I get the whole fur baby thing, I’ve always been uncomfortable thinking of myself as my pet’s parent. Aren’t dogs man’s best friend? Why don’t we just use names?

And, yes, I spend waking hours thinking of this stuff.

— Bunny enjoys walks and it’s clear she has some leash experience. I’m already much healthier because of her. I used to walk the state trail about 20 minutes, three days a week. Bunny’s schedule is a little tighter: 45 minutes each, twice a day. It’s like training with Rocky. We’ll be slurping raw eggs tomorrow.

— I mentioned the other day that she's like a teenager. Once bored with her toys, she goes looking for something else to gnaw on (like a Cattle Dog drink). Nothing major yet. A TV remote, sunglasses, that sort of thing.

— And now, the crate discussion. The good news is Bunny enjoys the crate. The bad news is only when she feels like it. And that’s rarely when I want her in there.

So, every time I leave the house, in the crate she goes. She puts up a little fuss but nothing major. When I come back home, she’s usually asleep or stretched out.

That’s another thing: How long can I keep her in there before it becomes uncomfortable? The crate is large enough for her to stand and move around some. It has some toys and I tossed in a JWC T-shirt. I’m often gone for three hours, sometimes four.

The dog isn’t griping about it. I'm probably more concerned than she is.

— When it gets dark out, no matter the time, Bunny goes to bed. I noticed that on her first day here. 

— She’s happy, playful, curious, loving, gentle, and sweet. She pulls on the leash some, but not always. On our walk back, she’ll stop and plop herself right onto the grass. Buddy did the same thing.

— She barks at the blue herons and sandhill cranes but backs off when those big birds answer.

— Treats seem to hold no sway over her. They’re OK, no big deal. What’s up with that?

— Cute as she is, Bunny hides from the camera like she’s in the doggy Witness Protection Program. Today’s photo is the best I could get.

— What a tremendous Christmas gift. Just as Buddy did a year ago, Bunny has brought a sense of adventure to my life (cuz it was so dull before…) that really fills in the hours each day.

For the life of me, I can’t understand how a dog like Bunny ends up homeless. Some dogs are of the world — Buddy was one. Others though, geez, they’re just naive little pups. When I think about Bunny out on the street alone, picked up by an animal control officer, spending a week in an animal shelter kennel surrounded by strange noises and commotion, plus having sterilization surgery — with no one intimate close by — it just makes me so sad.

And determined. That is not the life this dog will have. Best as possible, she is safe from whatever lurks out there.

Guess Bunny’s my fur baby. Buddy gives it two paws up.

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