Joe finds a home

Last Friday night my life was seriously disrupted when my new brother, Joe-Joe, arrived. At least he wasn't some squirrelly mutt or some big ol' smelly lab. Joe-Joe has good lines. When you see the pictures, I think you will agree. Luckily, he weighs only 23 pounds so I can take him down if I need to. Thank God he doesn't yap. His bark is good. His growl is better.

Joe-Joe wasn't allowed to invade my house right away. Dad had the sense to have us meet on leashes out in front of the house on the boulevard grass. He also made sure I had a chance to reinforce my 'A' dog status. He rolled the little sucker over on his back and give me lots of time to sniff his privates. Mmmmmm. He smelled pretty good. I didn't have to bark or bite to get the message out.

This little guy is younger, and hence, more energetic than me. He's springs up off the ground all the time and has few manners. Being cute doesn't get you very far in this house when it comes to obeying the rules. I've got to teach him basics like sit, stay, heel and lay down. He's got a thick head. For example, the first night he kept breaking the bedtime rules -- when Mom and Dad are in bed together we are not allowed on the bed. I think they pulled him off at least six time before he got the message. I still don't think he gets the message in that little pea brain of his. Every night we seem to repeat the same routine. I've given up and just gone to bed. It's Mom and Dad's problem. Last night I spied him about 3 AM sneaking up on the bottom of the bed as the both of them were snoring away on their new Sleep Number bed. Guess it works as they usually wake up at the slightest movement. I just don't care. I know where I belong. I know how to ask permission to get up on the bed in the morning. Joe-Joe will have to learn that too sooner or later.

However, he does play well and is not afraid of me. I agreed to share toys, my water dish, my sofas, my couch, and even my floor bed. We curl up together sometimes, but I do like my privacy so we sleep mostly in separate spots. I told Joe-Joe that if he has bad dreams I'm here for him. He came from a bad situation just like I did so we are both grateful for Mom and Dad. I just don't dance around so much. That drives me crazy sometimes!

There is some controversy in the family and Auntie J over his name. Dad's adamant that his name is Joe-Joe. Mom tends to call him 'the little one'. I would have preferred something a little more southern like Auntie J wants, but Dad was firm. As long as they don't start calling him Fred and forgetting that I'm the first and foremost dog of this house, I can live with Joe-Joe.

Joe-Joe is pretty healthy, but he's got an ear infection. Mom got him ointment from the vet and gives it to him every day. Boy, does he like the attention. Mom plays like she is giving me medicine too by rubbing my ears, but I know she is just trying to make me feel included.

Our only issue here at the house (beisdes my sometimes peeng in the crate when Mom and Dad are gone) is food. I would love to eat Joe-Joe's food as well as my own. He's a slow, picky eater, not a chow hound like me! That means I have to hang around waiting for him to get done in the hope he'll walk away from the bowl while food is in it. He actually has the audacity to growl at me as I pace around his crate while he eats. Yes, Mom tricked me. Rather then putting the bowl next to mine where I'd have a decent shot at it, she put the bowl in the critter's crate just to make it difficult. How could she do that to me? Seems like it's only fair that the oldest and toppest dog should have a shot at his little brother's food. He gets yogurt too for his yeasty ears. Yummy. Yummy.

Well, it's getting toward late afternoon and I need my beauty sleep out here in the office. The runt has the new couch (Mom almost bit his head off when he started to chew one of its pillows) so I'm here in the better spot on the floor right next to Mom as she tries to work on the website for the International Children's Heart Foundation. She has no patience for detailed work like that so there's lots of sighing and swearing. It's good for her. Keeps her out of trouble. Now if she can only get to that book she keeps saying she wants to write. Ha! I'll believe it when I see it.