Living Life With Gladys

Okay, it's true...I did it again. I adopted another unstable and abused rescue Westie, and I couldn't be happier. I honestly believe that Gladys and Travis shared a secret past history because they are like little book ends, lovely little white book ends with wagging tales. They love me to bits, but they also never hesitate to put me in my place when I ask too much of them.

Gladys, the G in GT (gifted and talented), is unusually tiny for a Westie, almost toy size, with a little yappy bark and a tale that looks like someone cut the end off of it. Knowing what little I do about her history, it could be that someone did cut off the end of her tail. Whatever the case, petting her tale and lower back is only an occasional treat because she is extremely sensitive and will start growling like a wolverine.

Her and Travis, already bonded, play together quite naturally. This morning the zoomies happened, fierce and fast running and chasing all over the hallways and living area. Usually they tag team to throw the ball. They choose a ball they like, Gladys has a fave, and then they take turns demanding my throws. It may be a coincidence, but Gladys uses that ball time to come around and get cuddles and pats, the same exact way Travis does. 

I love my dogs, and I feel bad about losing Bob and Bill. I hate that they both died of the same disease, and I failed to catch it in time. Diabetes sneaks into our lives and steals not only our precious time, but also the pets and people we love the most. From now on, I plan on being hyper-vigilant with my pet's health, including keeping them distant from harmful people. Well that's it on Glady and Travis today. More soon.








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