Savannah and Satchmo

Thankfully, dog and puppy are getting along much better these days. We haven't had one phone call from anyone else wanting to make Satchmo part of their home, so I guess this puppy is here to stay. In the beginning of this adventure, I said that we would bring Satchmo to the local shelter if no one else wanted to adopt him. But since that horrible week when Savannah was growling and snapping at her new little brother, everything in their doggie-world seems to have settled down some.

And now, bringing Satchmo to the shelter seems to be a most ridiculous solution to minor dog-sibling problems. Besides that, someone else is sure to change his name, and having "Satchmo!" called out into the universe is a very natural and wonderful thing.  My husband still hasn't gotten used to Satchmo's name, but that's because he didn't grow up with a grandfather whose favorite entertainer was Louis Armstrong.  And somehow, that name just fits this prolifically happy and busy little puppy.

Never would I have believed that the addition of one 12-pound puppy would create so much extra work. Because Satchmo is so busy all the time, running from the kitchen into the breakfast room and back again like a little circus performer, he constantly has to go out into the grass. Puppies usually have an over-abundance of energy but I have never seen such Energizer-Bunny-ish movement in one small dog.

As I type this, Savannah is sleeping in her bed, Satchmo is sleeping underneath the table in the breakfast room, and Sweet Pea is on my lap.  The cats don't know what to make of Satchmo, other than watching him speeding around  and staying out of his way. Satchmo will go nose-to-nose with Sweet Pea inside and with Mickey outside, and everyone is friendly and happy with one another, but still, the cats stay out of Satchmo's running path so he doesn't have to jump right over them in his travels. (And he does just that--- jumps over the cats without breaking speed.) The stray kitten is still hanging around the barn, but I'm feeding him on the porch now to make it easier on myself. Barn Kitty will follow me up and down the road when I walk Satchmo, and if I'm in the backyard with Savannah, that little black kitten will walk with us from one end of the yard to the other. (That movie "We Bought A Zoo!" comes to mind.)

I brought Satchmo up to neighbors' J&J yesterday... they weren't home but JAS and Cindy were in their backyard pool and I knew that JAS would have Bella (her tiny Chihuahua) with her. It was the perfect opportunity for Satchmo and Bella to get acquainted, and for Savannah to have a puppy-break.  J&J's yard is enclosed with a wrought-iron fence that we all thought would keep Satchmo contained in that part of the yard around the pool. Well, it didn't take long for Satchmo to figure out how to squeeze himself between the bars and off he went, exploring towards the woods. Thankfully, I saw him before got away from the mowed-grass part of the property... had he gone off into the woods, I wouldn't have been able to follow him without knee-high boots and a police escort.

When I saw Satchmo at the edge of the grass near the woods, I opened up the gate and crouched down towards the grass with my arms out wide and I called his name. Well, the puppy gods were with us..... Satchmo turned around and saw my arms reaching out to him and he came running towards me as if he had been with me for three years instead of just three weeks. I picked him up, closed the gate, and sat down in a deck chair with him and he rested his head on my chest and raised his head up so it was under my chain. A perfect fit. For some as-yet unknown reason, we were meant to have this little dog.  As for Bella, her senior-dog status had no patience with a busy little puppy who was disrupting her pool-time.

Satchmo sleeps in his crate all night long, and very quietly. He stays in there till he sees me come down the back stairs into the kitchen and then he quickly stands up and stretches because he has to get out into the grass. I found a painted wood sign that is now hanging on the front door of that crate: "Dogs Welcome. Cats by Appointment Only."  It seemed to be the perfect touch for Satchmo's crate, and it makes me smile every time I see it.

When I go upstairs for the night, Savannah is usually in her pillow-bed, which is in a corner of the breakfast room. In the mornings, however, Savannah is usually curled up on the floor right next to Satchmo's crate.  Somehow, this is working. It's a lot of work, having two dogs instead of one, but it's working, even though sometimes I feel like I'm the one who needs to curl up in a crate and not be disturbed until the sun comes up.