So we have a dog again, and things feel a little closer to right than they have since Fizzgigg’s passing. There he is, up there, in the only picture I could get him to hold relatively still for during the ride to his new digs (and if you click on the picture to embiggen, it will show him pretty much at his actual size, just like Gachnar). He was pretty trepidatious, shy and reserved, until we got him home and settled, and then his shy, delicate flower act was demonstrated to be lies! All lies!

Actually, Niblet was what prompted him to drop his little ruse. As soon as he saw her, it was exactly like his switch got flipped to ON, and then stuck there. I could practically see his thought process as this introduction happened, which went like this:

“Who are these people? Where have they brought me? These toys look nice and this bed is soft, but I just don’t know about thi–KITTY! OMG KITTY YAY KITTY GET IT GET IT PLAY PLAY PLAY RUN PLAY TOYS KITTY WHEEEEEEEEEE!!!1!” And he pretty much stayed with that line of thinking the rest of the night, as he bounced and zipped and generally wrought chaos upon the house–which I thought was a pretty good argument for naming him Cthulhu–only pausing occasionally to, um, get on more intimate terms with his new bed. Which I thought was an even better argument for naming him Captain Hammer.

But Husband put his foot down and said “No nerd names!” and so he remains nameless, because nerd names are all I’ve got. I think we’ve finally narrowed it down to Mojito and Chewie. I’m leaning toward Chewie. It satisfies my inner nerd as well as the apparent rule that chihuahuas must have Mexican-sounding names.

And what was Niblet thinking while all this was going on? The look on her face said it all. “Hey, a new bed! I shall now make it min–what the?! Oh sh–! WTF?! GET IT AWAY! GET IT AWAY! DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN AAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!” I gotta say, I had not a drop of sympathy for her. As I reminded her every time she gave me a look that said, “You will pay for this, hooman. Just you wait,” this was exactly what she did to Fizzgigg when she first joined our family, only with more climbing, so consider it payback from the grave. Although, I think she secretly enjoyed it. She kept coming back for more–making sure to act put upon all the while, of course. She got pretty depressed after Fizzgigg disappeared, so I think deep down she’s happy to have another amenable play & snuggle buddy.

As for Sasha, I think her thoughts went something like, “I swear I’m going to claw that little bugger’s eyes out if it gets near me,” so we tried pretty hard to make sure he didn’t. That… could be a problem. Husband might finally have to consent to allowing his little princess to have her claws clipped.

So, that was pretty much our first night. The Pup With No Name was pretty disappointed when play time turned into bedtime, but I put my Dog Whisperer skills to good use and got him to settle down and go to sleep (with no help from Husband, who totally nabbed the role of Good Cop when I was busy trying to establish some pack order. He really has no idea how pwned he is by that three pounds of Alpha Male).

This morning, though, he was nothing but a sweetheart, and I had a hard time leaving him for work. Husband reports from the homefront, though, that everybody’s getting along swimmingly and behaving themselves, and they’re having a great time hanging out together, and I can’t wait to go home and join them. It’s pretty safe to say that we’re both smitten, and No Name seems pretty happy with this arrangement, too. This was definitely a good decision.