The rescue of Zuzu

Zuzu passed her first night successfuly at her new home, which Susie is now calling "The St. Francis Animal Shelter," even though I know good and well that she would never turn down a puppy in the snow at the side of the road. No, she'd pick it up and probably take it to her own hair stylist and manicurist and sit there bawling while the aestheticians worked on the pup, saying, "It was the saddest thing I've ever seen, y'all, that poor baby just strugglin' along in all that awful old snow, it would have just broken your hearts into little bitty pieces..."

We have had two of the inevitable puddles and one incident of poopy, but so far, she has followed the example of Hershey and Wimzie and done all her business outside. This morning when my husband went downstairs at 7:30 to take the dogs outside, her little sleeping area was clean, so we were very proud of her.

We taught her how to go down the steps this morning; going up didn't pose a problem, but down? The very idea of going down made her bark in a sharp series of violent squeaks, like someone stepping repeatedly on a rubber ducky. It only took her a moment to figure out how to do it, largely due to the example of Hershey, who grew weary waiting for her to go down and pushed past us all with an apologetic look at me. "I'm sorry, but I am late for an appointment with the couch," he indicated as he went by.

Last night, Zuzu slept on a blanket on the floor covered by an inverted laundry basket. We pushed it right up to the doors of the older dogs' crates, knowing that being with them would comfort her. She yipped unhappily for about half an hour but then settled down and slept all night, which I thought was pretty impressive.

She's eating four small meals daily of IAMS puppy food slightly soaked in milk. The milk probably isn't necessary because her adult teeth are coming in, but it just makes me feel better to know that she has warm food in her stomach. We had to teach her how to drink out of the water bowl and she doesn't really understand the concept of dog treats -- it's funny to see the singular habits of a pup who's been out in the wild for who-knows-how-long.

Zuzu seems to be a mixture of several kinds of dogs. Her face is shaped like a Scotty or a schnauzer, complete with the beard and mustache and eyebrows. Her bangs and body, however, are curly like a poodle's, and her long, thin tail is feathery. Her eyes are the peculiar greenish-gold of a Weimaraner and her fur is a mixture of cocoa, gunmetal grey and caramel, kind of like the color you might get if you smeared a Twix bar on a rifle. I know that sounds hideous, but she's really terribly cute, especially when beating up on the large stuffed duck she stole from Aisling's room.

She and Hershey had a lot of fun chasing each other through the living room, around the coffee table, into the dining room and around the dining room table and back again. They were making a lot of noise, what with the thundering paws and Hershey's beagle bark, which sounds like "Booooorrrrk! Booouuurrrrrrrrrk!" and Zuzu's bark, which sounds like "Squeak! Squeak! Squeak-squeak-squeak!!!" Only high and shrill enough to make you feel like a screwdriver is being stuck through your ear, especially if you're holding her and she's looking over your shoulder when she does it.