World, Jackson. Jackson, world.
Jackson is a 3 mo.+, 25 # black lab (and ?). He is the mostest enthusiastic thing on earth right now. He had a cone when we first picked him up, due to recent work that I am sure he will forgive the fostering agency for someday.
We didn't necessarily introduce him to the cats in the right way. He came in the door, cone on head, saying
The punkboy cat, not entirely feeling the scene, freaked, and is only now starting to remember that, hey, his house. I honestly hope for punkboy Milo to slap the dog around once, just to establish the pecking order, and I don't believe the dog gives a damn anyhow. I just worry about my cats...
The other cat, Queen Diva Maisy, is usually the skittish one, incredibly so. Her reaction to her new brother has been atypical, I think in part because Jackson seems to pay not the slightest bit of attention to the cats. Basically, she looked down, said "What fresh version of Hell is this? Meh." and continued on with her business, that of getting fed and skritched.
The cone came off Friday night, and yesterday was playday. Today, we start some basic training, primarily 'come here' and gotta work on the jumping, he is big enought and heavy enough that my happy boy parts have retreated into my abdomen for the duration, and I'm pretty sure the 'lil puppy' nearly gave me a black eye on Friday.
Jacks will be an occasional visitor to my little bloggy home, he's very friendly, no table scraps, please!
One thing, thank FSM for no-kill shelters and fostering agencies, but good lord did they put us through a wringer. And we ain'tn't teh only ones - our vet just got a dog though a fostering agency, our VET, and he went through the same thing, quizzes, home inspections, cavity search.