Say hello to my new best friend:
His name is Primo, he’s a mutt, he’s about 5 years old, he weighs 23 pounds, and we love him already.
So here’s what happened. All last week, Rupert and I mulled the pet acquisition dilemma. Dog or asshole cat? You guys helped me suss it out in comments and many of you voted for an asshole cat, but then I spent a few hours searching things like “” and….no. We cannot have a cat here, I don’t care what anybody says about how smart and graceful they are, they do fall. They jump up on window ledges and overbalance, miscalculate. They sit nice and calm and smart-like in an open window…until a pigeon flies by. Then they get real, real stupid. Vets even have a term for it: .
About 10 days ago, I saw this flyer in the neighborhood. It’s actually one of the reasons I started thinking about getting a cat…
It says “DISAPPEARED YESTERDAY RED AND WHITE CAT, RESPONDS TO THE NAME BOTTO…PROBABLY FELL FROM THE 5TH FLOOR, WOUNDED AND SCARED. IF YOU SHOULD SEE HIM, PLEASE CALL ME”
I’ve had many cats in my life and I like them very much, despite their asshole nature, but I don’t like them enough to spend hundreds of euros to cat-proof our windows and very large balcony and it would break my heart if we didn’t worry about it, left the windows as they are, acquired a sweet little jerk, and an accident did happen.
And when you get down to it, Rupert thinks cats are even bigger assholes than I do. We both prefer dogs, we can’t deny it.
So: Dog? What about the apartment living, the concrete city-walking, the no-grass-having? Well, we realized that we can’t look out our living room window without seeing at least one person walking a dog and that wherever we go in Turin, we see dogs – on the the metro, the bus, in restaurants and shops and the mall – and they all look pretty damn happy and that’s probably precisely because they can go everywhere here so don’t get left home alone. I think dogs are less interested in grass and huge spaces than they are in being with their pack. At least the kind of dog I like is, anyway.
And my heart is with dogs. Even if I got the best cat in all of Cat History, one who did not jump out of windows like a psychotic asshole, I would still always long for a dog.
So: DOG!
We made the decision on Saturday morning so I Googled animal shelters in Turin and found two and there we went. That day was really cold and rainy, which wasn’t great because these shelters are the kind where each dog (or pair of dogs) has an exposed/visible kennel area but also a little door they can go through to get to their own little indoor area, which you can’t see inside. The weather was such shit that half the dogs were hunkered down in their indoor kennels and had little interest in rousing themselves to come lick our fingers through the fencing.
But we met many dogs anyway. Some were sweet and others will probably never be adopted because they are feral beasts, and I’ll be writing a whole other post about that issue later, but this is a happy post so I’ll skip all the sad cases and all the crying I did that day and get to the part where, at the second shelter we went to, we met the dog they called Spino (pronounced spee-noe) because of his spiny bristly fur.
He was so small and skinny and completely out of place with all the big barking dickhead spaz-dogs around him. He silently trotted over to us in the rain and sniffed our hands through the gate, and then just stood there staring out at the yard area while all the other dogs flipped their shit. He looked civilized. He looked like a spindly little soaking-wet-cold gentleman.
Rupert and I had seen about a hundred dogs that day and were in no hurry to pick from them because we’ve waited almost 4 years to get another dog and dammit it has to be the right dog. But we both radared in on this Spino character. We finished going around to see all the other dogs and then asked the lady to let him out of the kennel.
(Oh and as an aside, you’ll be proud to know that nobody at either shelter spoke a single word of English and that by the grace of all that is good on this green earth, I somehow managed to pull off the entire process of dog adoption wholly in Italian. IT IS A MIRACLE. I figured we’d end up signing papers to have ourselves euthanized, or to adopt the 10 most murderous bloodthirsty pit bulls in the place.)
So out of the kennel he came, and oh my god, that was it. He was trained on the leash, he sat on command (even in English! – it helps that the word is really similar), he didn’t tremble or bark or hide from the rain or spaz out or act like an ungovernable dumbass in any way. He was the embodiment of everything both of us want in a dog: mellow, in control of his shit even in stressful situations, and small enough for me to be able to lift if something happens to him.
We asked the shelter lady to show us his chart and any history they had on him, and I’ll be tormented by curiosity forever because they had no background on him except that he was born around 2007 and had come to the Turin shelter by way of a shelter in Cuneo at the first of October. All we know is he’s microchipped (the law in Italy) and neutered, wormless/vaccinated, etc.
We looked at his teeth and into his ears and palpated his paws – none of which he resisted because he is a good boy full of charm and dignity – and we made the decision: he had to come live with us. Had to.
Since all his medical stuff was up to date and he was already registered with the government, they let us take him home with us on the spot. We couldn’t believe it. At the first shelter, which we think was privately-run or at least partly privately funded because it was a lot more luxurious than the second, there was a little pair of sister puppies we were interested in but the staff said you have to visit once, then come back another day to visit again, then come back as many times as the staff deems necessary, to make sure everything is “okay”. Fine, we expected that, this is the land of endless bureaucracy where nothing happens quickly or efficiently, and also we understand the need to find good owners for these animals and not just anyone who skips in, but still…more than 2 visits? Anyway, we were stunned and overjoyed when this second shelter, the municipal-government shelter, let us take our new dog straight home. The lady did say that if she thought we were unsure, she would bring the whole thing immediately to a fermata. She was pretty awesome, that signora. I’m going to call her tomorrow to let her know how it’s going because she’d obviously bonded with this dog and seemed like she was going to cry when we left with him.
So. We brought him home. And he has conducted himself with grace and aplomb every minute since then. It’s beyond doubt that he spent the formative years of his life in a good home and was never abused; after 48 hours with him I’m convinced the reason he was in the shelter is because maybe he’d had an elderly owner who died, or something along those lines. He’s potty-trained, leash-trained, and sits-stays-comes like a boss. He has an interesting way of seeming like he’s actually been trained specifically to be gentle and quiet inside the house – he sort of soft-shoes it when he’s on the hardwood, and never barks or even moves too quickly, but none of this seems to stem from fear or anxiety. It’s a strange and impressive demeanor.
Rupert and I sat on the floor with him that first night rubbing his belly and feeling full-bore amazed that we’d found this kind of a dog at a shelter. Honestly, all but two of the others we saw that day were nightmares. And we didn’t want a puppy because of the potty-training and the puppy-energy, and didn’t want to buy a pure-bred because there are so many dogs in shelters but we really didn’t have hopes that we’d find the right dog at a shelter so this has been a lovely surprise.
As Rupert put it that night with a vaguely stunned look on his face: we scored.
We didn’t like the name Spino, though. Say it out loud a few times, you’ll see what I mean – you hiss, then you say pee, and then you say no. And I figured a name with the sound “no” in it isn’t great if you want a dog to respond correctly to the actual word “no”.
So for about 36 hours, we tried different names on the little dude. We wanted something that was Italian because he is Italian and we’ll still be living in Italy for the next 2 years and we don’t want to be the only people in his world who say his name “correctly” because that might confuse him. For example, Digger would be said “dee-gair” here. You know? What if he’s at the vet and they keep calling him something he doesn’t really recognize? At the same time, any Italian name would have to meet the same standard in reverse when we move back to America, which rules out names like Vittorio or Giancarlo.
We tried Bullo (boo-loe, means “tough”) and Vito (vee-toe, means “victor”) and Freddo (fray-doe, you know that one) and some others but none of them fit him, nor did any pass our international-pronunciation test. I figured Freddo would turn to Fred-oh, Bullo to Bull-oh, or people would think his name was “veto” instead of Vito, or whatever. I worry too much, don’t tell me I KNOW.
Anyway, last night I was washing dishes and for some reason thought of one of my heroes, , an Auschwitz survivor and writer from Turin whose books about the Holocaust I’d read in English many years ago and read again in Italian when I was first learning it last year.
The name “Primo” rolled around in my brain several times and I knew that was it. No, I did not decide to name our dog after such a great man directly – that is not how I honor those who teach me things about life the way Primo Levi did – it’s just that the sound of “Primo” always struck me as strong and noble, and even though it means “first” in Italian (and is pronouced “pree-moe”), to me it signifies dignity and survival. And this poor little smart dog who spent God knows how long in shelters for God knows what reasons, well he deserves a name like that.
And everybody on both sides of the ocean can say it perfectly so he’ll never be confused.
If you’ve noticed he’s asleep or damn close to it in all these pictures…yeah. He pretty much crashed out the entire first 24 hours we had him home so we figure he was exhausted from the shelter – I don’t know how dogs get any good sleep there with all the barking, plus his kennel was directly under train tracks. Poor boy. He’s also underweight and bony, only 23 pounds when he should probably be about 28 or 30; his ribs and spine poke through. He was well cared-for at the shelter (those people were truly wonderful and I’ll write about them later) but I think he just didn’t eat much there because of the stress.
We’re going to fatten him up and give him lots of exercise and all the comfy sleeping spots we can so he can recover and forget all about living in a loveless concrete cage. For now we just have some makeshift beds for him with old sweaters and t-shirts but tomorrow I’m taking him to the tiny local pet shop on our block to get a couple of proper dog beds to put around the house.
Meanwhile he’s pretty self-sufficient. He wandered into the bedroom after breakfast this morning and snuggled himself into a piece of quilt that was hanging down on the floor. The cuteness punched me in the eyes and the effort it took not to pick him up and carry him around in a papoose made from that quilt almost gave me a stroke.
Oh and yes. I have already started putting things on him and taking pictures to put on this blog.
IMPOSSIBLE NOT TO.
He got chicken for that.
Yaaaaa!!!! I’m so happy for you!!!
I am so happy for you and for him. Am crying like an idiot. I love him.
Okay, so while reading through this post I *thought* I was just thinking “Hooray for a smart, gentlemanly, well-trained dog! Hooray for good shelter people! Hooray!” but when I got to the end I almost wanted to cry. I am so happy for you that you got a new dog to fill that spot in your heart … and on this blog, I’ll be honest. It’s like the “click” of something into place. I hope I can be as lucky when someday The Bean gets very serious and insistent on getting a dog. Happy for you!
Oh my gosh, this makes me so, so happy! Seriously, I have tears of joy in my eyes right now. I know that feeling of finding just the right dog and having everything fall into place.
A few years ago I went to Petco to pick up some cat food, and came home with an Old English Sheepdog, now named Winston (the rescue lady was calling him Brad, what kind of stupid dog name is that?), who is truly one of the best dogs ever. He was calm around our more neurotic Golden Retriever, who wasn’t so thrilled with having a new brother. They are now best buddies. Then when we brought home a new puppy he was endlessly patient while the little guy literally hung from his whiskers. The rescue lady said he was in a shelter and was scheduled to be put down the day after she went and got him. He had some kind of intestinal bug when we first brought him home, but recovered quickly after a vet visit and some antibiotics. He was obedient and smart from the start, I have no idea how someone could have given him up.
I love all the pictures so far and can’t wait to see more in the coming days!
Yay!! His face has so much character. The third picture, right before the quilt picture – he just looks…regal. I am also suffering from “something in my eye” syndrome.
Yay! He sounds awesome!
There’s just something about that noggin that says “pet me”!
Yay Primo! I’m happy for you.
That’s what happens at shelters. You go looking for a pet, and sometimes if you are very lucky, the right one just walks up to you, grabs your heartstrings, and there you are. I had a young cat do that to me once, even though she was sound asleep at the time; I’ll never figure out how. One of my guinea pigs, Moise, was at the shelter when I was looking for girl pig to keep my other girl company. He was geriatric, had a bum front leg from being dropped and not having the limb set at some point in his life, had the worst case of pig lice I have ever seen, and he was a complete gentleman. He came home with me 20 minutes later, the shelter didn’t even charge me the adoption fee, and gave me the meds for his lice after I told them what they were. We only had him for a year after that (most piggies only live to be four or five), but he is one of the piggies I remember with total clarity and still miss.
Primo looks to be a total dear, the sort of dog that could make me at least partly a dog person. I look forward to many new dog stories, and since he’s already chipped and not too huge, it should be easy to bring him home when you move back to the states.
[jumping up and down with delight and joy] PRIMO! He is perfect. Hooray!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Your blog always seemed to be missing something without item-on-dog pictures.
WINNING!
Fantastic! I’m glad for you finding the right dog and for him for being found by the right people.
Blessings to all. A new addition to the family. If I were there, I’d give you a shower!!! Leashes, dog toys, and treats!!!
He is so perfect that it hurts! While I was definitely voting cat, your reasoning for not getting one is very sound and in the end I think the right decision. I’ll be voting for an asshole cat upon you return to Murrica, though. In the meantime, adopting adult pets is so wonderful and kind and rewarding. Primo just hit the pet lottery (and vice versa).
Yes yes use, and hooray!
That would be: Yes yes yes!
Somewhat OT, this post at Dr. Grumpy’s for Veterans’ Day about , is a great one about a great-hearted stray dog. Another case of a dog hitting the lottery, and those how adopted him winning every more.
How does one come to tears when reading about happiness? I’m not sure but I just did. I’m so happy for you and so happy for Primo! You’ve found each other and this makes for a perfect household. That picture of him on the quilt warmed my heart so much that it almost exploded. He will be loved so very much by you guys and he’ll love you right back will all his heart.
Yippie!!!
Congratulations, Rachel. He looks like a wonderful dog, perfect for you and Rupert. How delightful that he will now have a life commensurate with his gentlemanly nature. Love and kisses to Primo.
Wonderful News! Congratulazioni!
I am exited to see you writings about a small euro apartment dog. They will compliment well your past writings about your Rhodesian ridgeback hunting opossum in TX.
He is adorable and I agree, he seems quite regal.
Primo is adorable (marvelous name!) and I’m already half in love with him. I’m so happy for you and Rupert. It has seemed as though you’ve had a hole in your life since moving to Europe and leaving your dogs in America, and you deserve to have it filled by this endearing little “gentleman”.
I was delightedly scrolling through your wonderful photos and then teared up at the one of Primo snuggled against the quilt edge. It struck me that he was sweetly telling you, “I’ve already bonded with you”. *Happiness here*
Lucky dog to be adopted by you.
Hi! Primo looks like a wonderful dog. So happy for you & Rupert. He does seem to have a quiet elegance. Pictures of Primo for the next four years will help me better tolerate the Obummer regime.
Sounds like a great dog. Can he hunt possum?
“He” !? What am I supposed to do with a “he” ???
Awwww.. Such a regal little gentleman. Congrats.
Awwww, puppy!!!
My Egon did me like that. He was about four months old when I got him. Once home he ran all over the house like a crazy cat. Then after about an hour of that, I caught him, and sat petting him. In a minute he climbed up on my shoulder and curled up asleep. From that point on, he’s been mai kitteh. He greets me at the door and tells me when it’s time to go to bed.
I hope Primo has many years of teh happy with you and Rupert.
Hooray! I am thrilled for you all. Primo is a great name – plus it sounds pretty close to “Spino” so hopefully the poor dear won’t be too confused by the name change. Looking forward to future posts about your doggie adventures!
May Primo sleep the sleep of the innocent and the ignorant today, for tomorrow there will be a fez, green beans and photographic evidence.
Even though he looks like a wire haired Jack Russell, he can’t possibly be any relation as he is not described as a 4-legged crack addicted home-terrorist a-hole. I would be willing to part with my Jackhole if you’d like to compare.
Congrats, good luck and let the canine humiliation begin.
What a cutie! Your story reminds me of finding Sable, our rescue. She’s a bundle of energy – she is (apparently; we haven’t confirmed it) a black lab/Jack Russell mix, so you can imagine – so she didn’t have the sort of calm you are describing, but she was painfully thin and painfully happy to have a new home. I’m sure Primo feels the same way!
Mazel Tov!!!!! He’s so stately!! Yes – you guys did score. And so did he. I’m so happy for all of you.
Funnily enough, I more or less adopted a dog about a week ago (a yellow lab/golden retriever mix) from a client of a former employer who is the walking billboard for why you should never do meth. Anyway, I had Buddy for a week in April when she went to jail. She contacted me recently that she needed to get straightened out, would I take him again? And even though I have a house of cats, I adore this dog. So….I now have a dog. She’s so unstable, I wouldn’t dream of letting him go back to her.
I’ve tried to decide if changing his name (it’s not that I hate the name Buddy – it’s just so meh compared to my other names for my animals – Enzo, Murphy, Ladybird, etc.) is cruel or not, as he’s 7. You’ve made me realize that if I try to keep to something like his name, it might be a good thing for both of us.
Oh – and Primo is the name of Tony Shalhoub’s character in “Big Night” – which is still my all time favorite food movie. His brother’s name? Segundo. ;-)
Rachel,
I am NOT a dog person.
Primo might just change my opinion.
Congratulations!
Well done.
@Brooke: It is a an ancient Italian tradition to number children rather than name them. We did that with one of our cats, and elderly stray. He was our sixth cat since we’ve been married, and out of desperation (we’d had him about two weeks and still couldn’t come up with a name that fit) we tried Sextus which had the appropriate amount of dignity and gravitas and it stuck. Of course to American ears, almost any Italian or Latin name (unless its got a “c” or a “v” in it, and you aren’t using church Latin pronunciations) is dignified.
Primo isn’t too big a name for a smaller dog, and at least to my ears it seems to be a name that matches his demeanor in the pictures you’ve posted. And he is your first Italian dog, so it would seem to be a perfect name for him for a whole bunch of reasons, not the least of which is you all seem to like it.
I’m looking forward to a lot of dog pictures!
Huzzah! (I didn’t understand about your big balcony, so a doggie seems like the right choice.)
Yay! I think I smiled for the first time since the election! So very happy for you!
Oh, he’s perfect for you!!!
I wonder if that little fellow realizes how lucky he is to be adopted by YOU? I’ve never known a greater dog-lover! I will have to break my own rule of not posting random shit on my son’s FB page while he’s at West Point, because I know he’ll be thrilled for you, Rachel! He misses his dogs more than anything while he’s gone, and he was so sad when you lost yours. (I cried like a baby too, btw.) :( The news of Primo will make him smile!
So, now I’m happy, happy, happy for you! I look forward to all the pics!
I’d say, if you hadn’t already described him as a mutt, that you acquired a Border Terrier, one of my favorite breeds. If it’s not a Border Terrier, it had one in the woodpile somewhere back in its ancestry. Did you ever see the sequel to The Wizard of Oz, called Return To Oz, with Fairuza Balk as Dorothy? The dog playing Toto in that movie was a Border Terrier (the original Toto from the 1931 film was a Cairn Terrier, of course).
Sounds like Primo was very fortunate to have been found by you. And vice versa.
Aww, he’s lovely!
He couldn’t hope for a more loving owner (even allowing for the putting stuff on his head thing – more pictures soon, please!)
Very happy for you. Real cute guy.
Ay, Primo! Welcome! The love, the treats, the walks, the occasional bee costume. He’s won the Dog Lotto, and it looks like it couldn’t have happened to a nicer dog.
Now I have to go have myself a little cry, because: Happy.
I’m so happy for you, and for Primo. I found the love of my life at a rescue service. He was so disturbed from being in the pound he was almost unmanageable even though he only weighed about 3 pounds. They called him “wash cloth baby” because they had to put a wash cloth over his head to be able to pick him up. They accidentally brought him to PetSmart that day — they had intended to leave him behind because they were sure he would never be adopted. I went up to his kennel and he came to me immediately. I didn’t know he was “vicious” and took him out and held him. It was instant love on both sides. He was my best friend until he died last month.
Primo is adorable. Congratulations!
Excellent. Hope you will have a long and happy time together.
He’s a beauty, and the name is perfect! Congratulations!
So, you became fairly fluent in Italian just as you needed it to be understood by the woman at the shelter.
And you walked into the shelter just when this dog was there.
And he came to meet you, wet and genteel..
And he proved himself to have been WAITING FOR RACHEL TO COME ALONG AND RESCUE HIM.
You can, from this moment forth, tell me you don’t hold with any organized religion, but you CANNOT tell me you doubt there is a supreme being.
God bless you, and God bless Primo.
more, i mean.
Damn, it’s all dusty in here, too. My eyes are watering.
Primo’s definitely a cute little blighter. I’m very happy you got your dog, but probably not half as happy as you and Rupert and Primo are.
He looks like grampa in Moonstruck, especially the first face. That’s the one he gives his son to tell him to knock it off (affair).
@Amanda: I agree completely…
So happy for you, Rupert and Primo!
Excellent choice. May he fill your days and nights with the joy that you’ve been missing.
@og: I was talking about the string of events that led me to my wife and current career along the way. Once or twice could be happenstance. But this string of events would be considered too unlikely to be a plausible plot in a novel. Sure, it could be random chance, but at some point the odds become so huge that it should at least make you somewhat suspicious that someone or some thing might be looking out for you. Of course, Harry Reid is still Senate Majority leader, so you can always find counterexamples.
I’m so happy for you. You deserve to have a dog in your life (I won’t say that for everyone). It truly sounds win-win to me and it looks like all three of you have hit the Doggie Lotto.
p.s. “Primo” is also the Spanish term for “cousin” (used as a noun); or “in first place” (used as an adverb).
It’s a good thing you live in Italy. It makes it a lot more difficult for me to pull off a pup-knapping. But as cute as this little guy is, I might still try it.
I am so happy for you and for he! You did the right thing. You would have been sorry about the cat, no matter how much you loved it. Dogs live in cities all over the world and very happily, it just totally depends on the owner.
Congratulations on your sweet boy!
So happy for all of you! He is indeed a handsome little gentleman. Somewhere, Sunny is smiling. Can’t wait to see all the dress ups.
I’m so happy for you, Rupert and Primo!
He’s awesome, Rachel! He reminds me a lot of J’s dog, CM. Primo should have a Facebook page and be friends with him! Congratulations on the new addition to the family!
BTW, have you seen the series “Too Cute” on Animal Planet? They probably don’t carry it in Italy, but I believe it can be streamed off their website. You MUST watch it! The shows feature litters of puppies or kittens, & you will absolutely curl up in a ball of fetal cuteness from watching it–but in a good way. Watching an episode right now where a litter of 11 Rottie puppies are playing with kids & then with their huge 4-year-old uncle, who’s super gentle with them. That, & a littler of Australian Shepherds learning to herd…ducklings. Beyond sweet.
Yes! Yes! Pounders make the bestest friends. And there are always somebody who need adaptation. (‘Scuse me, my English not so good with tears in nose.)
M
That dog deserves you and you deserve him. Too many things came together here by “accident”, so I’m tending to agree with Og.
In any case I’m happy to see you with a new pup to humiliate. Poor Primo, if he knew what is in store for him he might have tucked tail and run FAST in the other direction. :)
Bello, bello, bellisimo!!! Io sono felice per tu e Ruperto!
(well, you know what I mean…)
Wonderful news! Looking forward to many happy pictures. :D
Happy for you and Rupert. He looks like a winner!
About that lost kitty notice-do Italian cats actually respond to their name?
“big barking dickhead spaz-dogs”
It’s witty lines like this (plus the good common sense) that keep me coming back.
I can only marvel at the humor. People actually get paid well for stuff not one-tenth this funny.
He’s a good looking fella. You chose well. More importantly, you adopted someone who needed a home.
Congratulations! He looks like a great guy.
When I saw that you got a new dog I instantly thought, “She’s gonna start putting things on it and taking pics. Just like with Sunny.” And I heartily approve. I know how hard it is to let a new pup in your life. Bravo Promo!
Stupid autocorrect…
Yea! Hillbilly Dog Art is being exported to Europe! (Congrats on the pooch!)
@Bubba:
Yep, that’s definitely a good description of a Jack Russell. I probably have one of the calmest I’ve ever heard of, and she still goes “turbo” every once in a while, especially after she gets wet.
Rachel, I’m glad you found a great little dog so quickly. That picture of him nuzzled into the quilt is so much like our Punky it’s crazy.
Awesome! I’m so happy for all of you, and what a lucky doggie he is. Plus, he’s beautiful.
well done. you’ll get some good karma for adopting him :)
Written like the beautiful love story it is.
Woof! Woof Woof Arf!
Welcome, Primo! There’s a lucky dog :-)
He’s very pretty too – I agree he must have some terrier in there. Such a cutie!
(I apologize for blatant misues of the comment section, but: did you get my mails? I sen one with Alessandra’s mail and phone number and another about bagna caoda)
SQUEEEEEEEEEEE!! So happy for all three of you! And I laughed so hard at this post…I can’t wait to see what else you’ll come up with for pictures. *rubs hands together maniacally*
Thank you thank you thank you all so much!!! It is wonderful to be able to share happy things like this with people who know the feeling and have their own happy dog-stories to tell. I really appreciate all the well-wishes, and I told Primo that he already has a huge internet family out there but I did not tell him what that means, which is green beans on his head and yes, eventually, as @Bubba said, a fez.
You know what sucks? I left all my dog stuff in Texas when we left 4 years ago. I’ll have to get a new fez, a new Sad Bee costume, new Arabic head dressing. Not that the Sad Bee costume that I stretched over Sunny’s enormous ass-girth would fit Primo, but hey I know how to use a needle and thread. I coulda taken it in here and there.
Today I took him to the little pet shop down the street and we got him a nice new bed and cushion. The lady at the shop was so sweet and told me to bring Primo back any time and she’d give him treats and help me practice my Italian. This dog has already made new friends for himself and for me, y’all. I absolutely adore him.
Thanks again for all these comments. You’re awesome friends. I especially love hearing your own stories of adoption; they warm all our hearts. Now I gotta run for a minute because Primo had his first bath today (and was a Very Good Boy), and needs a good brushing. And then snuggles. And then chicken. And then snuggles, belly scratches, and then possibly snuggles. More pics forthcoming!
Congratulations. Lucky dog.
In my fantasy world where you invite me over for dinner at your place I thank you profusely for not getting a cat as I am extremely allergic. besides dogs are so much nicer! :) Congrats!
Tophat! He needs a tophat. Perhaps with an integrated monacle. Congratulations, he’s a handsome doggeh!
Here’s some inspiration:
@Rachel Lucas:
I do believe that someone didn’t even fully realize how much she missed having a doggie around. Congratulations again, Rachel!
Congratulations to you and may Primo live a long and happy life under your wonderful care.
Many happy tears for you, for Rupert, and for wonderful Primo. Perfection.
Congratulations! My wife used a when our daughters were babies, and has since taken to using it with any new dog that joined our family as a puppy. I don’t know if Primo would put up with it, but my wife always enjoys having a sleeping puppy in the sling.
One thing I’ve always been curious about is the process for returning to the States with a new addition such as Primo. How bad is the paperwork? Do you know if it works both directions, as in taking your dog with for an international assignment? (There are occasional postings for jobs in Europe in my field. As the kids grow and move out, I’m wondering if a one year detail might be possible. Dogs would have to go with.)
And for Primo, congratulations on joining the new pack. You picked a good one.
Benvenuti a casa, Primo!!!!! You will be the happiest dog in the world from now on, I don’t doubt. I should be studying, but instead I’m balling my eyes out with joy for you and Primo. Congratulations.
I voted for a cat, but Primo is perfect! He’s lucky to have you and Rupert for his family. And him choosing the corner of the quilt to sleep on? Too precious (wipes eye). Welcome home Primo.
I probably shouldn’t, but I have all the self-control of those spaz-dogs, so here I go…
Is this an 11/6 allegory?
I guess it is.
Methinks you have been out of the workplace too long. Oh, I see. It’s another political allegory, and a racist one to boot! :-)
Anyhow, I wish you and Primo much continued happiness. And I can imagine Rupert’s relief. Don’t think he didn’t notice the longing looks you direct at his head whenever you handle green beans.
I’m with @og:
He loves this one, for sure – and Primo looks like he knows it, too! Quilt pic reduced me to goo. I want to hug him so bad it hurts from here. Could not be more happy for you!
Time to take my pack out for a hike – and some extra hugs, for Primo. :)
Congratulations, Rachel!
Our current floor obstacle was 7-1/2 when we got him from a shelter al little over 3 years ago. He’s a real piece of work but gentle and happy and wonderful too. Best wishes to all of you; you are once again a Pack!
Primo is perfect! I am so glad that he will be living with you and Mr. Rupert (NHRN) and be taken excellent care of. In my experience, the little wire-haired dogs are some of the best. “The Saddest Bee” is giving her approval, I am sure of it.
Oh, Rachel. HEART HEART HEART. You headed overseas before I left Saudi. Left the middle east in mid-2010 – in just enough time to get The Boy [the Great Dane, Sterling] home to have his bone cancer diagnosed. He made it to Saudi and home with me. That is all you can ask for. The Baby – Saffrynn – the Standard Poodle is still with us – and will be for many years to come. I have a grandson now – a real, live little walking talking two-year-old. Have missed you. Hope all is well. LUV LUV LUV your NEW Baby!!!!!! Big hugs, B. a/k/a Sabra @ Stilettos in the Sand
We are on the 11th floor and our neighbours’ adolescent cat used to crawl around a wall and come onto our balcony. One day I went out there and didn’t see him. It surprised him and he panicked. The poor little guy tried to jump back onto the railing to return to his own balcony and slipped. So, you’re right, balconies and cats do not mix.
Rachel I can’t begin to tell you how overjoyed this makes me! I have tears in my eyes right now. SOOOOOOOOOOOO happy for you but BEYOND happy for Primo as he couldn’t find more loving parents or a more loving home! CONGRATS!!!! :)
@Rick: There’s some amount of advance prep work that is necessary to move to/from Europe with a pet, but overall it’s not too bad. We moved to Ireland from the US with our dog in January 2012, and it was pretty straightforward – a couple vet visits, up to date shots, proof of rabies vaccine administered more than 20 days before the flight, and a form filled out by USDA (by far the most frustrating part of the process was dealing with the US govt). UK and Ireland have now harmonized with the rest of the EU by doing away with their quarantine requirements, so it’s all a lot simpler than it was even one year ago. Moving back to the US also requires some amount of paperwork, but nothing insurmountable. Our dog is on the medium/large side, so it was somewhat pricey ($1k+) to ship her (cargo, in a regulation-size pet carrier), but cats and smaller dogs would be cheaper and easier. Overall, it was very very doable – by far one of the easiest parts of our move.
@Rick: Oh, and she needed a European/international microchip. They have 15 digits instead of the usual 10 that most US microchips have. Our vet had them in stock, but you may have to special order one and have it implanted.
Yay! you have a dog! Dog blogging is back!
Congrats! Typing with a big smile on my face. Reading your blog today made me realize how much I’d missed your goggies, and you. Glad to see you back in the game, and Primo with you. :D
Thanks again for all the nice notes. You guys are the best. Primo is the best. I am so lucky for all of it.
@Rick: Some of your question has already been answered by @Jamie, and it’s pretty much what I would say. Of course the UK lifted its 6-month quarantine requirement AFTER I moved there and left my dogs with my parents in Texas, argh. But I wouldn’t have transported Sunny anyway because of her age and health – I don’t think she would’ve survived the flight in the cargo hold.
Anyway, it’s a lot easier these days, in both directions. I’ve had several expat friends here who moved to and from the States with their dogs, and it was just a lot of paperwork and planning ahead, just like Jamie said. You have to have a “Pet Passport” and medical documents but that’s about it. My most recent friend who took her dog back to the states from Italy, about 6 months ago, said it was painless. As for HOW you get them back and forth, if they’re under about 15 pounds (I think that’s the limit), they can fly in the cabin with you on certain airlines as a carry-on item (Air France, Lufthansa, United). Otherwise they have to go in a carrier in the luggage hold, but apparently that’s tolerable for most dogs. Not pleasant of course, but tolerable for healthy dogs. Holler at me if you have other questions, I can post them for everyone and I bet there’ll be a ton of good answers like Jamie’s from people who’ve done it before. Best of luck!
@BT in SC: Oh you’re back! yay! I’m really sorry about The Boy :( But I’m glad you’re otherwise well and congrats on the grandbaby!! :)
@Miguel: Oh dear. That is awful – and is exactly what I was worried about. Glad I made the right decision.
hadn’t read you in a long time, but remember Sunny. So glad you and Rupert have a new doggy in your life :)
I LOVE him!!!!!!!
Congratulations on Primo — he’s lucky to have a loving home and I am happy for you to have found such a perfect-fit pup.
I did want to say this about cats, though… I’ve had cats all my life, usually in places that had a balcony or upstairs window or both. Never, ever, not ONCE have I had a cat fall off the balcony/out of the upstairs window/etc. Not even when I had indoor-outdoor cats. They’ve been in fights with other cats, hit by cars, chased by dogs (and as such, all of my cats are now strictly indoor cats), but never have they been victims of the kind of dumb*ss clumsiness you describe. I know it happens, but it’s relatively rare, especially if one takes a few basic precautions. The simplest solution is to not let the cat out on the balcony. Period. Cats can also be trained not to jump on window sills, and if that isn’t an option, window screens can be secured with a few relatively inexpensive pieces of hardware.
It might have been more gracious (and certainly less alienating to those of us who love cats) to just say right up front, “We wanted a pet. And we’re dog people. So we decided to adopt a dog.” …and leave all the cat-bashing out of it.
The fact that you applied the word “asshole” to cats multiple times in one blog entry indicates to me that you are not merely indifferent to them. Rather it seems you have some measure of contempt for them and felt some inexplicable need to give vent to that contempt. What’s that all about anyway?
@MizMize: I’m glad you’ve had no cats fall from heights but if you follow the links, you’ll see plenty of people have. Someone in a comment above yours has even experienced it. Also it seems you haven’t read the backstory about my windows and balcony – we have multiple gigantic Italian windows, and to screen them would not only probably violate some “aesthetics” code but would also cost a fortune. The balcony is only accessible through sets of gorgeous French doors that can’t be screened at all – so we’d never have access to our balcony if we got a got since we’d have to keep those doors shut 365 days of the year, even in summer when we must have them open for the cross breeze.
As for the “asshole” stuff – I’m guessing you’re new here (and I’m glad to have you). The “asshole cat” thing has been a running joke on this blog for many years. We all love cats around here, trust me. I started it as flame bait, nothing but a poke-in-the-ribs-to-friends joke in August 2008 – see here. Read some of the 215 comments – it is all in good fun, even for cat lovers.
If you’re interested in further reading about this blog’s Asshole Cat Operative Theory, see:
Cats. They’re Assholes.
What are Cats? Assholes, You Say? (I HIGHLY recommend that one because it’s hilarious, because it quotes that “How to Give a Cat a Pill” thing that’s been around for years and cracks me up every time I read it).
Then there are some posts about cats in my life, like Frank and Beans. They’re my brother’s cats, solid black twins, and absolutely huge. And very awesome. I did whole posts about those assholes. And here’s one about adorable asshole kittens they found once.
:) Just saying – it’s all in good fun. Nothing about it is meant to be ungracious or alienating and I’m sorry it seemed that way. Welcome to the blog and thanks for the congrats on Primo!