We named the dog Indiana *

Blogfolk, meet Indiana Bones. Indy for short, of course.


MB and I went to Petsmart on Sunday to get two pet gates and came home with a puppy. One of the local animal shelters had brought a half dozen adoptable dogs in for the day, and Indy was one of them. He's allegedly part black Lab and part Chow, and is supposed to be about 4 months old. He loves people, even kids, and likes other dogs a lot. He has some food guarding tendencies when the food is in a dog dish, but he'll eat out of our hands just fine. (He'll be going to obedience school ASAP and we've already started a training program to eliminate his food guarding behaviors.)

He is fuzzy and cute, and only a little smelly.


There's an episode of Firefly in which the characters bring a herd of contraband cattle to a border planet. River says, about the cows, "They weren't cows inside. They were waiting to be, but they forgot. Now they see sky, and they remember what they are." Right after I took this picture, Indy seemed to remember that he is a dog. He started leaping and rolling, rubbing his back on the grass and joyfully biting the heads off of violets. It was heartbreakingly sweet.


MB and I are pretty besotted. Kitters, as expected, is less than amused:

"Woman, what the HELL is that thing in the kitchen?!"