Olive's Story

Olive came to live with us on January 30, 2010. We weren't looking for a dog. Just two weeks before we lost our beloved Scully. My heart was still heavy with sadness at her passing. We decided that we would look for another dog in the Spring and that in the meantime we would start researching breeds, temperments and sizes as a base when we started looking.

Now, I know that I was probably setting myself up by even looking at websites devoted to rescued animals. But I looked at hundreds of dogs and lots of black labs/lab mixes and didn't even experience a twinge of interest.

Then there was Olive. There she was and her story of losing her front leg and her family all in her first year. I was drawn in and went home that night and asked Kevin if when we started looking at dogs we might consider a three-legged dog. His first reaction was no, but then I pulled up her profile and he felt it too. She was the dog for us!

Two days later she came to our house for a "meeting" and she lavished us in love and treated our other dog, Bisou, like a rockstar. The cats she simply sniffed and left alone.

She teaches me something everyday about loving with abandon, trusting without hesititation, and playing with gusto! We haven't found anything that she can't do yet ... she runs, plays, runs up and down the stairs without any problem. She is great with Bisou (they play all the time) and leaves the cats alone. She did eat a library book while we were at work today, but she is new and a puppy so we are just working with her to learn commands (which she takes to really well). Her most favorite thing to do is cuddle. She'd be laying across us all the time if we let her. Most of all I feel the sadness as losing Scully lessening with the love of this incredible dog.

Thursday, April 1, 2010

Tongue Thermometer

There is something about Olive's tongue that I haven't seen in other dogs before - the way it mimics her mood. A thermometer of joy; the happier she is the more her tongue extends and flops from side to side. It happens the instance the car pulls up to the dog park. Her soft pink tongue which once laid discretely in her mouth as she dozed on the ride over immediately races out as if she can greet the grass, trees, and other dogs more quickly by sticking out her tongue. But it does not just simply extend forward in a pant-filled greeting as will most dogs. Moved to ecstasy, it cannot be controlled and soon begins to dangle to the side and with each hop she takes it is propelled up lashing the side of her face. A happy puppy is a puppy with a tongue flopping up the side of her face, covered in drool.
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