Do you remember Finlay?
If you follow my Instagram then there is no way you cannot remember him.
I have inundated Instagram with Finlay.
I would say I apologize for that, but it just wouldn't be truthful.
I'm not sorry.
I adore him.
Finlay has adjusted to Noble life quite well. That outdoor dog we had to drag into the house the night we brought him home, well he now prefers the comfort of air conditioning and cushy couches to hanging with us outside on the back deck when the weather is lovely and perfect. He quickly became accustom to afternoon snack time with gourmet dog cookies. He loves to "go" in the car and will refuse to get out once we've arrived back home. He loves cuddles and kisses. And though our little, nappy bear hasn't grown in height (he measures only 25" at the withers and a little under 5' when standing on his back legs) he has put on some much needed weight. He was very underweight at 59lbs when we got him and is now at a healthy 75lbs.
I am almost certain Finlay is Lucy reincarnated. There is only one difference, (okay two if you include breed) where Lucy thought she was Zeus (i.e. immortal) Finlay is more like, well, like a mouse or a sparrow. He is very shy and cautious of new people and new places, but like many dogs he has that sixth-sense and can "feel" people. And though there has only been one instance of this occurring, this dog will not hesitate to bow-up and the most menacing growl will emerge from the depths of his puffed up chest should he "feel" someone is dangerous to us. However, most of the time he is just a big, shy, happy goofball.
Finlay goes for two walks a day; one in the morning and one in the evening. We practice following commands we already know on these walks and work on new ones. Lately Finlay has been working on coming to us when called. And he's been doing very well. We are hoping he will be like Daisy and never stray too far from us so he can play freely when we go to the "big" park.
And this is why I had him off his lead down at the "little" park.
I will not be doing that again.
I let him off his lead and we were playing with the poopie bag holder as one would a ball. (He loves this.) But then he got too far from me. So I called him back. Nadda. I called for him to stop. Nope. I yelled at him to sit. Wasn't going to happen. He kept going until he came to the (probably terrified) little guy, who I'm sure only wanted to get out for some morning exercise, not be accosted by a little wolfhound. Then he sat and asked the unsure little man if he wanted to pet him. (This was a Finlay "first moment".) Just as the guy realized Finlay was not going to rip his throat out, he went in for the pet. And that's when Finlay heard his daddy's car coming down the road.
And took off again.
As he started to cross the street to get to his daddy, a big scary man in a truck started yelling at him and before his daddy could get out of the car and get him, Finlay was off like a rocket.
The Farmboy jumped back into his car and tore back down the way he had just come (from home) while I
jiggled sprinted as fast as I could down the sidewalk, despite my protesting bladder. The Farmboy had gone around to the back of the house and I the front. As I came up to the front walkway I saw that the front door was standing open.
That crazy dog had high-tailed it from the park straight to our house, opened the front door and was in the house sitting up against the back door, as far from the street and as close to safety as he could get.
And then we checked his paws for thumbs.