Meet Arie. After Keiko died I waffled between wanting a dog and not wanting a dog. It was hard to decide. I knew I wanted a Shiba but it had to be the right Shiba. I was really not sure if I did want another one. Part of me did, and part of me felt it was really freeing not having to get up, walk the dog, come home, walk the dog, get ready for bed, walk the dog.
And then this little furry asshat with no real history came along and I. Was. In. Love.
She’s a jerk in the most adorable way. She likes to bark, she hates small dogs and children, she thinks our apartment is her domain and she has to protect it. Bark, bark, bark. She apparently feels like the lack of quiet decorum in our hallways is her job to police.
I’m teaching her; she’s learning. She’s super smart and she’s been easy to train so far, but the dealing with other dogs thing is going to take a lot of time. We got this. I don’t expect her to be perfect today but she’s been learning way faster than I thought she would. That’s all her; I think I suck as a dog trainer.
I love her.
She’s learning that people in the hall are not people we have to worry about, she doesn’t need to kill all the dogs in the building, and she LOVES walking around the lagoon every morning. She’s a girl who loves her walks.
Which was part of my reasoning for getting her. You can say no to the treadmill, but you can’t say no to the dog. So we walk. And it’s the best part of my day.