Arrival

Oh my. We suspected he was a real good one from what we saw in the shelter. It can be hard to judge for sure, with so much distraction and the absence of a real bond. And I have to say, it is a total act of bravery to take even the best and sweetest shelter dog and walk him out to your car, and figure out how to get him (a total stranger) to stay in your car, and to drive the hour home worrying that he's freaking out or being sick (he was). Worrying that he won't like you.
Silly me.
We got home, we walked around the yard a few times on the leash. Pete followed twenty feet behind, in full-on stealth mode. We went in the house. I showed him his food and water. Olive dove for cover. We went outside again, then came in so I could post photos on Facebook. He paced the perimeter of my office twice, gave it a few cursory sniffs, and did this.

He is made to be a freelancer's dog. He is back in that position this morning as I write this, checking in for my approval every few minutes or when I make an interesting noise.
He is also meant to be a gardener's dog. After posting pictures, he and I went outside to plant some things. I looped his leash around the end of a pitchfork stuck in the ground, nearby. He circled a few times and laid down with a sigh, and I was so amazed. Some dogs-- Diesel for one-- would've turned into complete basket cases, being tied up like that. But Delmer was just-- oh, ok. This is where my person wants me. We worked for the better part of an hour this way.

When Patrick got home, we had a campfire. 
He has melted us, completely and totally. He's two, so he still has quite a bit of puppy in him-- and needs to learn that mouthing is a no-- and loves to frolick and prance. But under that, deeper than that, he has Great Dog Instincts. The checking for approval, the ability to be quietly content (when I'm in sight, at least), the goodness with the cats and the neighborhood noises and even the chickens-- I am so excited, and so hopeful. And so happy. 

I don't think I'm alone, either.
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