Meet Little (Austin, Texas)

Little is about a year old. He's spent his whole life in a back yard*, so he's a little emotionally stunted.
I call him Little because he was surrendered, basically, for being too big.
Geddit?
Becoming homeless was the best thing Little has ever done, because being homed previously really sucked for him.

He is sweet and delicate and wants so badly to be best friends with a person, but he needs a lot of gentle training, because "being a loved pet" is completely new to him.
He's lived in a yard with lots of other little dogs before, but I suspect living indoors with other pets will be a challenge for him, since he's new to this whole ready-supply-of-resources thing. He WILL guard his new owner from other animals, maybe people, if given the chance.

I'm fostering Little in Austin, Texas. He's existing under the care of Animal Trustees of Austin and his adoption fee is $75, though I encourage you to make a larger donation to ATA, since they take a loss on pretty much everything they do to keep the way over-saturated animal community in Austin alive and out of pain.

If you're interested in adopting him, e-mail me. We have other cool little foster dogs, too.



*If you have never had a former back yard dog before, please read Ian Dunbar's Before You Get Your Puppy and After You Get Your Puppy.

Mugsy could go home as early as...

TODAY!

Mugsy is the second most important food group.

Mugy's good friend Jenn made this cute little GIF image of her, apparently, chewing on his head. (He didn't mind.)
Thanks, Jenn!



Come meet Mugsy tomorrow, Saturday, August 23rd, at WHS's Georgia Avenue shelter at 7319 Georgia Avenue NW (walk there from the Takoma Metro station!).

It's been a big day for a small dog.

I picked Mugsy up this morning. He was neutered yesterday, but seemed completely normal when he got home. Not tired, or bummed out, or cranky. Just himself, nice & happy.


Mugs & Hank played for a while.
And then we had some pizza.
And then some of us fell asleep.

DEVELOPING: Tiny Dog Enjoys Playing with Human on Couch

Sorry about the choppy video quality. We'll make something better soon.
That's my husband playing guitar in the background, by the way.
Mugsy wasn't sure what to make of the guitar at first.

ROAD TRIP!!!

Well.
Sort of.
Just across the river, really.

Today was spay/neuter day.

I transported Mugsy & 13 other animals for DC Animal Control to the clinic this morning.

We didn't make it 10 blocks from the shelter when a handsome black and white cat came through the window that separates the front of the van from the back. He had managed to break himself out of his cardboard carrier and weasel his way up to the window.
He and Mugsy hung out for the remainder of the hour-long drive. They acted like they'd known each other forever, and eventually fell asleep (DC morning rush hour traffic will do that to you), Mugsy in the passenger's seat, the kitty on the console.


Eve

Tiny Humane Law Enforcement Officer Mugsy McGuinness

Mugsy came to work with me today.
He helped me with some paperwork. He helped take some calls at the front desk. He even went on a ride along in an HLE van (even though it was just to ride home at the end of the day).

Overall, Mugs is really showing himself to be an awfully nice little man.

And he exhibits a natural talent for law enforcement.
And by "exhibits a natural talent for law enforcement" I mean "naps on car rides." Obviously.


Eve

Walks with little dogs.

Today, Ian, our friend Jeanette & I took Mugsy and Hank on what looked to the humans & Hank like a short stroll.
From Savory Cafe in Takoma Park, to Big Bad Woof on the DC side of Takoma.
To Mugsy, this was similar to doing the Appalachian Trail all at once.
He's doing perfectly swell on the leash, despite having limited or no leash training before ending up in foster care. But, even so, twenty minute walks will exhaust this guy for now. Maybe once his strength and confidence have normalized (with a lack of exercise comes a lack of muscle development comes, well, quick fatigue), he'll be able to go further.

My confidence in the apartment-compatible tiny dog was completely shattered after adopting Hank from WHS's DC Animal Shelter (the big one on New York Avenue). What started off as a meek, shy, reserved little dog turned into... Well... Hank.
Hank takes few things seriously, but, really, play is no joke.
We have things to do!
Throw that squeaky pig. Now throw it again. And again. And now let's go for a run in the park. Okay, now let's play fetch with the same stuffed toy carcass for twenty minutes. Okay, now...
Hank plays. Like it's a job.

I began to feel that high-rise apartment dwellers should just look into Greyhound rescue (retired racing Greyhounds are the best kept secret in city living, by the way --they truly appreciate their retirement) and wait for a ground level place to adopt a ten pound ball of fire.

Well, I might have to revisit that position.
Mugsy doesn't really understand exercise.
He doesn't really get the point.

So I still think all dogs deserve three walks a day, but I guess Mugs' walks should just be a little shorter than, say, Hank's. Or maybe a little shorter than those the Greyhounds up the street go on.
Snuggling, cuddling, and napping, though. He definitely understands those concepts. Affection is his strong suit.
He's learning to navigate toys. I guess I can see where a giant stuffed lobster with rattles in its claws might be difficult to wrap your head around when you've just had a pretty big couple of days.


Eve

Mugsy McGuinness is out on bail.

I came to work on Thursday at around noon and my supervisor (that's the deputy director of law enforcement at WHS, Mitch Battle) had just returned from a call with a tiny, matted white dog.
Despite his movement being restricted from ridiculous matting, he was wiggly and happy and silly (the little white dog, not Mitch).
I picked up the ball of tangled hair held it in my lap at the front desk of the Georgia Avenue shelter while Mitch was on the phone, making arrangements to have the thing sent to the veterinarian for an exam and shave down.

We were initially unable to verify that he was actually an intact male. His testicles were matted snug to his body and he smelled strongly of urine & feces.
This doesn't make my stomach turn like it probably should. I've just gotten used to washing my hands fifty times a day.
The gross little ball of hair was still excited about interacting.
And I went ahead and got excited about him being so gross but so adoptable (what, with his tiny stature & swell attitue & all), that I volunteered on the spot to foster him.

Later, Officer Gardner and I stopped by the hospital to pick him up on the way back to our office from some afternoon calls. When the technician brought our little nameless wonder, I burst into laughter. It was like he'd been stripped naked. He was completely hairless. As in not just a little hair, but no hair.
This is totally cool with me. Hairless = hilarious in my book, and hilarious = you can have my attention. I totally love hairless cats because they're so fun to snuggle. And don't say "ew" --because if you think it's gross, you've never snuggled a Cornish Rex. I think cat breeding is totally stupid, but if a friendly Sphynx ended up in the shelter, that cat would be movin' in to my house.

So, we took His Baldiness back to the shelter and returned to the office, and yesterday I got my paperwork in order to foster all 8 pounds of naked dog. He came home with me after work today.
We went on a walk with my own dog, 9 pounds of black fluff named Hank (truly "Henry Rollins" --but he quickly defined himself as HANK!, with an exclamation point.).
Hank was way cool about everything. I was impressed, in fact.




The first order of business was to get a shirt on this poor creature.
The second order of business was to call him something proper.
The most appropriate name I was offered came from a friend who took one look at a picture of him and declared "Mugsy McGuinness."
You're right. He DOES look like a Mugsy. And little dogs need two names. It's the least we can do to boost their dignity. That and carry him up & down stairs.

Mugsy was totally psyched to see the cat, Tobzilla, who outweighs both dogs (combined), but Toby perched himself at observation level and no standoff has yet occurred. Mugsy tries to figure out what Tobzilla is supposed to be, and Tobzilla acts all superior to the dogs, because that's how he rolls.

Husband Guy (that's Ian) & I spent much of the evening hanging out with the shrunken dogs and I found myself thoroughly entertained until bed time.
Which is now.

We've avoided any accidents in the house so far. Cross your fingers for us.


Eve