Cheyenne wants to be a human baby. Although she was originally excited about the baby’s arrival, she is now reconsidering this position as the baby seems to receive quite a bit of specialized attention that she wasn’t quite prepared to share. She still celebrates when he comes home and licks his face joyously but the rest of the time she goes back and forth between sulking around with a befuddled, wounded expression and trying her hardest to “out-cute” the baby, sometimes resorting to imitating the baby. Which, by the way, her annoying antics are far less funny and much more… annoying than before the baby came. But I digress. Today I was giving Baby Boy sweet potatoes, which was hilarious in itself. He was so excited, grabbing the spoon, putting it to his mouth, and then as soon as the sweet potatoes reached his mouth, this disappointed look would take over his features and he would immediately blow the sweet potatoes off his spoon and everywhere. Meanwhile, Cheyenne was beside herself, wagging her whole body, pawing me, climbing on me. When Baby Boy was finished I let her taste the sweet potatoes, thinking that would put an end to her begging but lo and behold, she loved them. The quest to be a human baby continues.

Meanwhile, we were visiting family in our old hometown. I’ve written about the treat truck before. Well, 6 months later, she has not forgotten. Saturday morning, she was suddenly desperate to go outside. I went out there with her and of course, here came the mail man. He said, “hey, I know that dog” and threw her a treat. She was so proud of that bone. She picked it up and carried it across the yard, tailed curled and touching her back, chest out, ears up, galloping. She buried the bone. Amazingly enough a week and a day later, the day we were leaving but before we had even started packing, Cheyenne ran out to the bush, dug up her treasure and ate it. She not only remembered to go outside and meet the mailman, but also where she had buried the treat 8 days later, and somehow knew when to uncover it.

Also amusing was the night we heard rustling. My husband turned to me and said you realize that she is pulling our clothes out of the suitcase to lay on, right? Well as it turned out, not quite. When I looked to see what she was doing, I saw her standing on top of the suitcase, turning around and around moving the clothes in the suitcase to their optimal postions for her comfort.

Oh and have I mentioned that she pulled the corner of the screen back so she can some and go as she pleases? Seriously, I couldn’t make this stuff up if I tried. She is the epitome of hilarity, this dog.

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

Let me start by explaining that I understand, or more accurately thought I understood, dogs with issues. Jackson, my Border collie, was an emotional wreck when I adopted him. He was terrified of everything, most notably stairs and riding in the car. I worked tirelessly to get him over both fears. I learned what motivated him, I encouraged him, supported, pushed and comforted him. We sat in the car without it running, I treated his motion sickness and I was patient and encouraging, and he not only conquered these fears but worshipped me in the process. I let his adoration go to my head. Looking back, I was probably quite smug; I thought I knew it all. I expected Cheyenne to react the same way, grateful, hanging on to my every wish, existing only for me. I had no idea what was in store for me or the ways that my life would change. The thing is that somewhere in between the many, and I do mean many, eaten shoes, chewed up couches, shredded blankets, books, pens, holes in the backyard, chases through the neighborhood, small rodent kills, and rolling and eating decaying creatures and feces, this little brown spotted dog has run away with my heart.

This picture depicts Cheyenne’s personality exactly. Everyone knows that hoarding 2 bones and the biggest toy you can find is the secret to happiness.

She was beyond sweet this morning and insisted on cuddling with me before I left for work, even putting her head on my shoulder like a little person. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, that crazy brown spotted dog is something else.

Also it should be noted, the nicknames Shoo Shy and Shoo Shoo are derived from the children’s song. As in, shoo Chey–don’t bother me.

She is finally begining to act like a teenager instead of puppy. She still has her moments though. We have seen quite a transition since Dixie came to live with us. Now Dixie is the newcomer, and because she associates herself with IO and Jack, by default, she is graduating into a “big dog.” I am amazed that she is beginning to take direction and have high hopes that in another 6 months or so, she will be a really good dog.