Pets 2: Ruger

The name started off innocuously enough.  We had neighbors with questionable...sources of income.  Gal and I joked that we should get a dog, name it Shotgun, then walk around the house yelling, "Honey, where's the shotgun?".  Corny, I know, but it got us started joking about names for our dog that revolved around guns.  At some point Gal thought about our plinking pistol (Mark I), and the name ceased to be a joke.  It stuck. 
When we lived on campus and had our illegal pet, we wanted a dog, but knew we would get caught by campus houseing and lose both pets.  As soon as we moved to our current abode, we set about finding a pet which returned love and affection on a regular basis.  We tried all of the local animal shelters in one day, but the selection was limited (we needed a puppy which would be able to get used to 2-year-old Gizmo).  The last shelter we tried was in the next county, set back in a holler, and we arrived just in time to see the shelter's director preparing to leave.  She decided to take a chance on us and left the shelter open for us to peruse on our own.  After about 30 minutes, we picked out a tan and white puppy (imaginatively named "Biscuit" by the staff), about 3 months old, who was excited to see us, but when we left he quickly calmed down and sat off by himself.  To the best of our reconing, he was a beagle/labrador mix (beagldor)  On the way home that day we called the shelter director and told her we wanted "Biscuit"

I had to work the day the dog renamed Ruger came home (Biscuit? really, lets not depress the dog any more than necessary), so Gal had the job of driving 45 minutes with an untested puppy.  Ruger started off in the back seat, moved to the passenger seat, and ended up in Gal's lap resting his head on her chest.  That's how I found them when I got home, Gal on the couch with Ruger laying on her chest. 

Since that day Ruger has functioned as our alarm system, couch warmer, and Gal's shadow.  He's funny, scary-smart, and gets along great with the rest of the his siblings.  Gizmo tollerates him, and Abby (cat #2) thinks he's the best toy ever. I've owned golden retrievers in the past, and Ruger is by far as smart as that breed and intuitive to boot.  His car ride/bonding moment on the way home has solidified him as Gal's biggest fan.  He has begun planning her arrival earlier and earlier.  First it was when the garage door went up, then when she called to say she was on her way home from work ( I always end our phone conversations with, "I love you, babe."), and now he even recognizes her ring tone on my phone*. 

Mark Twain said it best, "The more people I meet, the more I like my dog."  I think I can stop meeting new people.

-Guy

*Zale's jewelers recently put out a commercial which uses the same sound bite for their commercials that I have for Gal's ringtone.  When we sit watching TV at night, that commercial coming on can bring Ruger out of a dead sleep with his head up looking for Gal.