The Little Pack

While I have been gushing about my son, Cheyenne has been… well, Cheyenne and doing the types of things that only Cheyenne does. See, Cheyenne has always thought that she is a baby. The real baby’s appearance has thrown her for a loop. Don’t get me wrong, she loves the baby, but she is a bit disappointed to discover that she is not human after all. She is still trying to convince herself otherwise but deep down is the truth she can’t deny: she is actually a dog. Yet this is not stopping her from stealing the baby’s blankets and burp clothes and curling up with them as if her proximity to them will somehow make her more human. And then yesterday, I caught her playing with one the baby’s toys. Not a stuffed animal, but a toy that stands up and whirls around. She was pawing at it to make it go around. I saw the look on her face and it clearly said, well, maybe if I just test this out, they will carry me around like that and sing to me and rock me…

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With a lead-in like that, you know this has to be about Cheyenne. This morning I woke with my neck cranked and aching, head half off the pillow. Not too long after coming to consciousness, the reason why became all too clear. Cheyenne had appropriated my pillow for herself; to sleep on, and slowly but steadily pushed me out of the way. And man was she cozy. Now you have to truly know Cheyenne to understand that there was not even a hint of disobedience or insubordination in this act. She simply stumbled upon this great spot and could not believe her good fortune. Further, I can imagine she was quite amused with herself for never thinking about sleeping in this spot before. It’s funny as long as this is not  a new pattern.

We adopted Cheyenne three years ago this week and I am finding it hard to believe that:

a)  She is four years old.

b) It has been three years since that fateful day.

I will never forget that day as long as I live. We went to the adoption fair thinking we would adopt a puppy. They were australian shepherd mixes, and of course they were cute. But we didn’t bond with any of them. We had noticed Cheyenne because of her unusual markings. She slept in her kennel and we ruled her out since we couldn’t evaluate her personality. We left and came back countless times, and finally the last time she was out of the kennel, a huge smile on her face and we both looked at each other and agreed she was the one. We took her over to a field and tried to play with her, but she pretty much stood there looking bemused with us, slightly interested, but mostly confused. That’s okay, we thought, she’s nervous, this is a stressful situation. We discussed our fear that she was “too calm.” Could we have possibly tempted Fate any more?  On the way to the car, she sat down in the parking lot and refused to move. Apparently, this was foreshadowing for her favorite ways to embarrass and frustrate us.

Three years in has me musing about how quickly time flies, how far we have come with her and how far we still have to go, grateful for every minute I have spent with her and privilaged to be sharing my life with this crazy, brown spotted hilarious dog.

Chey Before

Although not as funny as the first time, Cheyenne struck again tonight by rolling in a dead animal. Still aromatic, this time wasn’t quite as pungent. In fact, my husband said he thought it was his feet, until he realized her neck was crusty. He thought this could be taken care of with a washcloth and having experience in this matter, I just laughed. Clearly, this did not work out and he soon announced that we were putting her in the tub. The crust was down the length of her body. I grabbed a pitcher, towel, and shampoo. My husband wrapped her up in a dirty towel and carried her into the bathroom. He set her in the tub and climbed in with her. I dumped the first pitcher of water over her and was as0tounded to see the water running off her body turn YELLOW. A moment later I realized my husband’s feet were in the water and that is precisely when the laughter started. I simply could not stop. Even Cheyenne’s dejected little face and trembling body did not deter me. Post-bath, we discovered her collar was covered in guts. I can’t wait to discover what poor little thing caused this ruckus.