My World of Parkinsonian Delights

Happy Anniversary, Shiloh!

It was four years ago today that Shiloh joined the Family Schmalfeldt.

My sister “who must not be named” told us that her daughter’s boyfriend had a puppy from a German shepherd couple, and there was only one left.  Raven, still a young adult at that time, was very needy.  She followed me and Gail everywhere demanding constant attention.  So, we thought, if we drove out to Wisconsin and bought this puppy, Raven would have a companion and they could play with each other.  Funny how that worked out.

When we were at “she whose name I’ve forgotten” house, we went to bed that night with Shiloh in her crate.  Shiloh did not LIKE the crate and made these ungodly noises that no one has ever heard being made by a puppy before.  We let her out of the crate and she took that as her excuse to climb all over the bed and play and try to look through the blinds out the window and jump on us and bark, so we decided… to hell with trying to sleep.  We got in the car at about midnight on the morning of July 3rd and started back home.

Gail and I divided the driving (she sat in the back with Shiloh until I needed a nap, then she drove while I sat with Shiloh).

"Get lost shorty. They already GOT a dog!"

When we got home that afternoon, Raven looked at Shiloh with an expression that said, “What in God’s name are YOU???”  That turned into barely masked hostility.  She never did anything to hurt the baby, but Raven wanted NOTHING to do with her.   Shiloh, for her part, was as bold as brass and scared of NOTHING.  (This is the same dog who is now cowering under my legs because the neighborhood idiots are setting off fire crackers.)

Until the next day, when suddenly Shiloh was Raven’s baby and she wanted to take care of her.

When our vet first saw Shiloh a few days later, the first thing she said was, “Oh, sweetie.  Don’t worry.  You’ll GROW into those ears!

A lot has changed since that time.  And as far as giving Raven a companion, they BOTH follow me and Mom around demanding that SOMEONE throw the damn ball.

We love our girlies!

Who ARE you people, and why are you in my house?

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