Meet the Pup-Squad

So, I think it’s high time for a proper introduction.

Meet the squad.

Jackie

At almost ten year’s old (she hits the big 1-0 in April), Jackie’s the oldest of the fur babies. We often refer to her as the Dogfather (but she’s a girl, so…Dogmama? Doesn’t sound as cool). 

Scott (my other half) found Jackie via Craigslist when he was in college. Anyone wanna guess why her name is Jackie? Here’s a hint…her full name is Jackie Daniels (college boys *cue eye roll*). 

According to the people he bought her from, she was an eight-week-old Jack Russell/Cocker Spaniel mix. Those people? Were liars. Like a good Dog Daddy, he took her straight to a vet for vaccinations…where he was told that she was not eight-weeks-old, she was four. Way too young to be separated from her mama. So young, in fact, that Scott had to hand feed her for a couple of weeks.

Despite knowing these people lied about her age, Scott’s determined to believe they were right about her breed. She does not look like a Jack Russell. She does not look like a Cocker Spaniel. She definitely doesn’t act like either breed. (You would not believe the arguments that we’ve had about this). But, there it is. (I’m right about this, by the way). 

It doesn’t really matter what breed she is, she’s a total sweetheart. She LOVES people, like really LOVES them. If you knock on our door, she will bark. And she might sound a little intimidating despite the fact that she’s only about 30 lbs. No worries, she won’t bite. She’s just super excited that there may be someone on the other side that wants to pet her.  She’s not, however, the biggest fan of other dogs. Not an aggressive kind of dislike, more of a “meh, whatever” dislike.

Her favorite things include cuddling, treats, belly rubs, and occasionally chewing up things she shouldn’t. I’m gonna be embarrassingly honest here…this dog has a weird fascination with eating underwear. Don’t ask me why, I don’t know. 99% percent of the time, she’s a complete angel. That other 1%? When I’m making an unscheduled shopping trip? Ugh.

But I still love the old girl to pieces. She’s our “good dog”. The one who’s totally happy to curl up in a sunny spot and nap. The only one we don’t have to crate when we’re gone (No joke, she has her own bedroom. Technically, we call it the “guest room”, but it’s really Jackie’s room. And no, there’s no underwear in there.) Every once in a while, when she gets super-super excited, she does what we call the “Rocket Dog” where she jets back and forth across the room and spins in crazy circles. I absolutely love it when something makes our normally docile pup go completely nuts. It lets me know that, no matter what, this old pup is really, really happy to be ours.

Lady Westside

Let me start by sharing the story of how we came to be owned by this little thing (and yeah, you read that right, she owns us. It is not the other way around much as we tried). 

Several years ago, we found ourselves in a PetsMart on adoption day (if you’re unfamiliar with this concept, it’s when PetsMart hosts a dog rescue and they bring in puppies and dogs who need a fur-ever home and totally pull at your heartstrings). Scott went nuts over this cute little beagle pup. At the time, we already had Jackie and my dog Ava at home (I wrote a whole post dedicated to Ava after we lost her a little over a year ago that you can read here). Scott was convinced that we really, really needed a puppy. I was convinced that two dogs was enough.  He was so obsessed over this, I was seriously expecting him to go back to PetsMart and adopt the puppy without me (He didn’t…’cause. He’s smarter than that). Instead, he brought up the puppy subject a lot over the next few months…until I caved. Originally, we checked animal shelters for a new member of the family. But, considering the dog dynamic already present in our home, we had to be very conscious of the decision we made (namely, we didn’t want to bring in another big dog and we had to worry about a new dog fitting in with Ava). We didn’t have a lot of luck. Eventually, we turned to Craigslist (y’all sensing a theme yet?). That’s where we saw a post for a ten-week-old Yorkie mix that was exactly what we were looking for (also, she was just too stinkin’ cute). I emailed the ad poster and a girl responded asking us to meet her in an IKEA parking lot to check out the pup. At 9:00 at night.

Does that sound strange? Scott thought so. He complained the entire way there. Until this girl opened the back of a small SUV and this little 2 lb nugget of cuteness came toddling towards us. Scott pretty much threw the money at this girl, this pup was ours.

Well, turns out she’s not a Yorkie mix. Our best guess? Papillion (you know, there’s little dogs with big ears that look like butterflies?) and maybe Chihuahua. Either way, she’s little, adorable, and runs this house.

I’m not kidding. Case in point…sleeping arrangements. Lady sleeps in our bed. In the middle. Right between us. For the longest time we could pretty much guarantee that when we woke up, one of us would be hanging off our pillow. And she would be curled up on it, dreaming blissfully. So, we had to come up with a better solution. Now, Lady has her own pillow right between ours (Can you say “spoiled”?) 

This little mutt has totally lived up to her name (a play on a joke from one of our favorite shows at the time, “How I Met Your Mother”). She’s a princess. She’s demanding. She’s spoiled. If she wants something, and you don’t give it to her, she has this high-pitched bark that sounds like she’s yelling at you. 

She’s also the sweetest little cuddle-pup. She loves playing fetch and tug-of-war. She’s also equally happy to just curl up on the couch and chill. She’s a demanding little diva…but she’s OUR demanding little diva.

Lola

Oh, boy…Lola. Where do I even start? I wrote a post about Lola after we first adopted her (check it out here), so I won’t go into too many details about why we decided to adopt ANOTHER dog. Long story short, after we lost Ava I was pretty emotional and lonely. Even with Jackie and Lady, the house seemed empty. Our solution? Get a puppy (and this time, it was my idea). 

We did the whole animal-shelter-thing again and came up empty…again. We almost adopted a puppy from a rescue group (again, I already wrote a pretty detailed account of this). Eventually, we turned to Craigslist (seriously guys, theme?). And there she was. Twelve pounds of fuzzy, lovable, huggable fluff. Now, supposedly, Lola was eight-weeks-old. We thought she was probably a few weeks older (our vet agreed). The person we bought her from also claimed she was a pure-bred Long Haired German Shepherd. So far, we’re inclined to believe them (our vet also agreed). 

If you can’t already tell after reading about Jackie and Lady, exact age and breed aren’t really a thing for us. What mattered to me was that first moment I saw Lola and felt like I’d gotten a small shard of my broken heart back (Lola was and is not a replacement for Ava, you can’t replace a love like that. But your heart can find room to love another fur baby).

So…about Lola. I really, really love this pup…but she’s a hot mess.

She’s been through beginner and intermediate puppy training. And she’s usually really good about learning commands (usually if food’s involved…especially when food is involved). But being able to follow commands does not mean she is well-behaved.

The best way to describe this pup? She’s a big ol’ fur-shedding, personal-space-invading, attention-demanding goofball. Have you ever seen a 70 lb dog sit on the back of a sofa like a cat? Because I have, daily. Ever seen one leap from the back of said sofa onto the stairs five feet away? Because I have. Ever seen one try to sneakily crawl into your lap by nosing their way under your arm like maybe you won’t notice? Because I have (like, five minutes ago…also, 70 lb German Shepherds aren’t very sneaky). Ever seen one that loves to cuddle but doesn’t really get cuddling and instead just kind of stands on you awkwardly? You know where I’m going with this.

Lola’s personality is bigger than she is. And so is her heart. She makes no secret that she really, really, really likes her humans. When I come home, whether I was at work for 12 hours or the grocery store for 12 minutes, she grabs the nearest chew toy, dances around my feet, demands pets, flops on my feet for belly rubs, and makes this really weird howling/whining/crying sound. I’m pretty sure me coming home is the best part of this dog’s day. (She also does this weird thing where she puts her mouth around my hand or wrist and just…holds it there. She doesn’t bite down or apply any pressure, just…holds it. A security thing? I have no idea).

The point? Lola’s kind of weird. Which, honestly, makes her pretty perfect for us. When she crawls into my lap (well, stands in my lap) and I rub her ears and scratch her muzzle and her eyes droop and she looks like life just can’t get any better than this? Those moments make it pretty obvious that this crazy fuzzball was meant to be mine.

Ava

It wouldn’t feel right not to mention Ava in this post. Like I said before, I wrote an entire post about her after we lost her to an autoimmune disorder. I’m not gonna lie guys, over a year after we lost her, and I’m tearing up as I write this. I really, really, really LOVE all my precious fur babies. I don’t know what I’d do without them. But Ava and I had a crazy special bond. She loved Scott. She loved my parents (well, after she warmed up to them…Ava was really anxious around new people). She loved her fur-sisters. But Ava always made it clear that I was her human and I belonged to HER. She hated it when strangers came near me. She hated it when another dog (even Jackie or Lady) got any attention from me. If she heard a strange noise outside our house, she would literally stand guard over me (The first time she did this? Scared the ever-loving crap out of me). When she slept in the bed, she had to be next to me with her head on my shoulder or on my feet. 

Ava was also fiercely stubborn. When we first bought our old house in Charlotte, we thought it would be a good idea to start teaching the dogs not to get on the furniture. (Ha). For two weeks, every night we would go to bed I’d have to force Ava to get down and go to her doggie bed. And for two weeks, every morning I’d wake up to find her snuggled up in the bed next to me. Guess who finally won that battle? (If you guessed me? Your wrong). That’s not to say Ava was unobedient…she was just obedient in her own way. Usually, if I gave her a command (like get off the couch) she’d act like she was going to do it, stop, and look at me like maybe I might change my mind. She reminded me of a surly teenager sometimes. I had to give her the magic word (Now!) for her to realize I was serious and she had to obey.

Losing Ava devastated me. I’ll never forget that moment an emergency care vet told me my baby was suffering, that her heart was overtaxed and could stop any moment, that the most humane thing I could do was say goodbye.

If there are tears in your eyes reading this, if you’ve ever had to make that awful decision or are experiencing that heartbreak now, my heart goes out to you and your fur-baby. 

There’s a quote that I absolutely love from Thom Jones: “Dogs have a way of finding the people who need them, filling an emptiness we don’t even know we have.” 

I could write an entire novel about my fur-babies and all their funny stories (funny to me at least) and weird personality quirks (and if you’re thinking that I pretty much just did…well, sorry, not sorry). Being a fur-mama is definitely a major part of who I am as a person.

My name is Alicia, and I’m obsessed with my pup squad.

Do you have a fur-baby you’re completely obsessed with? Or (if you’re like me) multiple fur babies? Tell me about them!