Molly Maguire has a baby sister on the way

A younger friend of mine who still travels about found someone with a 10-week-old boxer/rat terrier mix who needs a new home. She's a real animal lover, and a general all-round good egg herself. I'm so fortunate.

Anyway, they'll be here tomorrow night and I can hardly wait. It's unfortunate that I had to agree only to take another small female, but at 20 lbs and 20", Molly herself can almost take the 4' fence around the yard. She's always happy, but now I'll know she's as happy as possible with a new sister. There are times in the day when I just can't pet her every second. I know she's sure to welcome a sister, too, because she's so friendly to everyone she's really not even a good watchdog. She'll stand at the door and wag her tail to get out if someone comes through the gate.

Let's all hope and pray the new pup continues to take after her smaller parent; but I'm fairly confident there also, because she doesn't look more than 6 or 7 lbs tops at 10 weeks old. She'd have to nearly triple in size to equal Molly, who thank goodness stopped growing taller before her recent 1st birthday.

I'll name the new pup Brigid after the ancient Celtic primary goddess of all Ireland. It means 'High One'. Good grief, I hope that doesn't turn out to be a pun! But I'll be happy so long as she can't jump a 4' fence. I don't even know yet whether she was raised outdoors so far; if that's the case, she's already potty trained herself. Molly came to me that way and she refuses to use papers or pads - even the box I filled with potting soil.

But believe me, they'll be indoors plenty. Always at night and the rare times I'm gone anywhere. If they bond well enough, as I'm sure they will, they can even share the big baby bed I put in the living room where I sleep now out of habit.

The chows Joy and Freedom both suffered progressive paralysis late in life and could never climb the stairs even when we first moved here. They were born together, lived 16 years inseparably, died together, and now rest together in a 7-ft-deep grave in the back yard. I was so stricken I told the vet I wished he could put me in there with them. They were the best dogs in the world, but I'm too old and couldn't afford to keep even one chow now. Maybe by the first anniversary of their passing, I'll be able to write a little memorial for them. Even though they stayed very trim, they also went through 2 big bags of dog food every week. That lasts Molly over 2 months!

Anyway, the upper floor of my house still needs extensive rehab, too. So I'm well used to living downstairs for now. Finishing up the total house rehab earlier than I would w/o even 2 little dogs wouldn't make me happy if I tried to live entirely alone. Something in me requires close canine company. One of many reasons I'd rather die than wind up in a nursing home.