Originally uploaded by Playapixie.


So, what’s the story with the dog who’s now dominating my Flickr stream? (My outlaw mother requested lots of pictures — it’s not just me, I swear!) For those interested in such things, there story is behind the cut.

I’ve been wanting a dog for a year or so, even since I started hanging out with all the dogsters in the office at my old dot-com job. Dre and I went round and round about big dog/small dog for months and months, and he finally shrugged and said “Fine: little dog.”

I am madly in love with Boston Terriers, but didn’t feel ok about going to a breeder — nor could I abide the $700 price tag that comes with a designer dog. I signed up with the local Boston Terrier rescue league and met a couple dogs that way. One was a three-legged pooch who I immediately code-named “Peggy.” Dre found her too clingy and admitted that while he could manage a small dog, the prospect of a small special needs dog was a bit much. I also met a one year old Boston who was a bit too high-energy for me. Seriously. I hung out with this dog for an hour, and I’m not sure he even knew I was in the room because he was so busy spazzing out.

Then I got laid off from my dog-friendly employer and we stopped thinking about getting a dog. But this spring brought me some depression and anxiety (nothing I want to talk about here, but thanks for asking) and after Alison and Maude’s visit, I had this breakthrough of realizing that a small furry familiar could be just what the doctor ordered. I’m only working three days a week. We have a backyard. Maybe now is the time?

Like everything else that is good and lovely in the world, I found Sassy on the internet. She was with a rescue group in the Eastern Washington town of Yakima, WA. The place is called Barks ‘R’ Us, which is funny by itself. I filled out a seven page application (!!!) and included pictures of me with Maude the Chihuahua and me with with Maggie the Boston Terrier as proof that I was familiar with both breeds and excited about getting a mix.

Then it was emails and phone calls and suddenly it was Saturday and I was driving to Eastern Washington to meet Sassy’s foster family at a 4-H horse show where they were going to be for the day. Andreas had class, but Dawn (who knows canines since she used to train service dogs) came with me to help me figure out if Sassy was the right dog for us.

It was evident almost immediately that she was. “What’s the biggest challenge with this dog?” I asked the foster family. “She just wants love ALL THE TIME,” they answered. “She wants to be on a lap all day.” Oh, hmm. A dog that wants to cuddle too much? How perfect! A dog that wants to sit on your lap while you geek out on your computer? Ideal!

Dawn did some disposition observation (she identified Sassy as an extreme submissive, which I guess is good) and within five minutes it was decided. The dog was coming home with me! Er, us! Dawn and I did our pink-haired lesbian couple routine and headed back over the mountains to Western Washington. On the way, Dawn proclaimed that she wanted to be Sassy’s god-dog-mother.

I didn’t get much of Sassy’s back-story. Something about a woman who had three dogs already and was going to bring her to the pound? Whoever she was, she did a great job. Sassy’s crate-trained, housebroken, and has been trained not to beg at the table, opting in stead to sit demurely nearby with her paws crossed.

And now I’m part of the weird dog-owners club. My outlaw mother said she saw the pictures online and ran into the bedroom to tell her partner, “We have a new grandogger!!” Our back-neighbors, who’ve been varying degrees of cold to us for the two years we’ve lived here, saw Sassafras over the fence and immediately warmed up and started talking about how their dog, McKenna, would love her. People on the street want to chat. It’s weird, but I like it.

And Sassy seems happy as a clam.