Emma is a Yorkie. Tiny, small, furry bundle of yapping cuteness that you'd think wouldn't fit in at the farm. Honestly, the goose is bigger than she is. But we really had no worries about her fitting in. She'd visited with us before, spending a week with us when my parents were out of town, and she did rather well. She loves the freedom of being able to roam...a little too much.
Actually, we brought Emma home the same week that my parents went out of the country to a conference in Calgary. It was the perfect time to make the transition. Despite the fact that she and Jack were a little wary at first, she did rather well. Her favorite thing is to run around the front yard barking at Eeyore from the safety of the other side of the fence. It's kind of funny.
But three days into her stay with us she disappeared. We couldn't find her anywhere. She wasn't inside and she wasn't in the yard or the pastures. We looked for an hour, walking up and down our road calling her. Nothing. I don't know about Zilla, but I was very worried about having to tell my mom that I lost her dog just days after taking her in. It was getting dark at this point and we were about to go inside, upset over the fact that we couldn't find her, hoping that she was just enjoying an explore of the neighborhood and would be home soon. Zilla made one more run down the street on the four wheeler to see if he could find her. I was ecstatic when I saw him driving up with her in his arms. Until I saw the blood streaming down her front leg.
In the chaos of trying to inspect the wound, figure out what happened and find out where he'd found her, I discovered that she had wandered several streets over...and I'm talking country streets not city blocks. In order to get there she would have had to cross several pastures and a very busy street. However, it's interesting to note that she was in fact heading in the right direction to go home to my parent's house. Turns out a very nice couple found her, called the number on her tag which we hadn't changed yet and spoke to my mom in Calgary. They were on their way to bring her back to us when Zilla saw them on the street. The best we can figure is that she cut her leg on a piece of fencing or metal in her travels. We were worried about an animal bite but there were no puncture wounds and she's so small that if another dog had gotten her she would have been torn to pieces.
What's funny is that she's this teeny, tiny thing that thinks she's invincible. She barely reaches Jack's knee but she's right there beside him, barking her fool head off and protecting us all from any perceived threat. She barks so hard that her little feet come off the ground. It really is funny to watch.
So we have a new dog. Oh, and did I mention that we said we'd take my brother and sister-in-law's cat? They've temporarily moved and couldn't take the cat with them. It just isn't fair for Strider to stay in that big empty house with only periodic visits to refill the food and water dispensers. So the brood is growing. Again.
P.S. This blog is late because apparently Emma is photophobic (I realize that's probably not the right word but...) I wanted to put a picture of her up with the blog but every time I pulled out my camera she ran and hid. You probably can't tell but the only way I got this one was to corner her in the office and surround her with the girls so she had no where to run to. Maybe it's just me but I can see the fear in her face. Maybe she thinks it's going to steal her soul...
P.P.S. From Playground Monitor: My winner from yesterday is Beth Curtis. Looks like she has mad Google skillz like me. Please send your snail mail info to me and we'll discuss