Tail in Motion

Nico, our newly-rescued cockapoo, has been settling nicely into his new home.  One week and two days after we drove him away from the shelter, we can't imagine life without him.  He fills the house with his playful spirit, puppy kisses and gratitude--for human beds to sleep in and for the Magic Food Room where his favorite kinds of miracles happen three times a day.  He's learned his new name and already answers to a string of nicknames: Squeako, Sneako, and Neeks.

Even senior dog Reuben, who was somewhat skeptical at first, has come to appreciate the company.  He once again likes going out into the backyard now that he doesn't have to go there alone.  And he even puts up with Nico's attempts at play...the galloping full throttle and veering away at the last minute kind of hijinks.  Roo doesn't do any running of his own anymore, but his body language says, I understand this is a game, and I'm playing too...as much as I can at age twelve and a half.

Meanwhile Nico seems to agree that he belongs with us.  On Saturday, as we were cleaning the house, dragging bags of garbage to the side of the house, he somehow slipped out the front door without our even noticing.  Then, maybe half an hour later, I realized I hadn't seen him in quite a while.  "Is Nico with you?" I asked Andre, Eli, and Noah.  The answer was a distressing no, no, and no.

We ran to the front door and flung it open, prepared to launch into full scale search mode.  But there Nico was on the front stoop, eyeing the door, waiting patiently for it to open and let him back inside where he belonged.  What took you so long? he asked us with his eyes.  Silly humans. 


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