Big congratulations go to Lindsay's sister, who just gave birth to her second girl. Yay!

Funny thing is: she gave her daughter the same name that my oldest sister named her little girl.

Can Lindsay's and my family please stop copying each other yet?

Can they? No? Okay... anyway...

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Since Monday, Lindsay and I have been a foster home for a 3 year old Jack Russell Terrier named Jack. But also Freddy. One dog, two names. He came to us named Jack, but how many people have to name their Jack Russell Terrier Jack before we all realize that it was never funny or clever in the first place and just move on to regular dog names. Like Freddy. When the rescue rep dropped Jack Freddy off, she mentioned that we could (and should) change his name. So now he's Freddy. He totally looks like a Freddy. Freddy, Freddy, Freddy. Hopefully that's out of my system now.

Freddy has some major personality. For starters, Freddy is a gate jumper. The first time I met him, I walked through the front door of our house and Lindsay let Freddy in the back door into the gated back room. Apparently, Freddy has springs for legs. One half second after coming in from outside, Freddy leaped the gate like it was 3 inches tall. Didn't even think about it. Just Hey! New person! *sproing* Hello, new person! Pet me! Funny stuff.

Freddy also barks at airplanes and automobiles. Freddy has an extremely goofy smile. Freddy is very work-oriented and high maintenance -- strangely enough, both of those are Jack Russell Terrier traits. Freddy is also very sweet with people. Especially me! Ha!

Since Freddy is a foster dog, ideally both of our dogs are above him in our house alpha scale. It's only temporary. The order should be: Bailey, Oscar, then Freddy. I mean, Freddy will soon go to a loving family and he'll be higher up on the pecking order, anyway. So this way works out well for all of us.

Unfortunately, it has already been established that Freddy is dominant over Oscar. Orange Juice is dominant over Oscar, for crying out loud. The poor sweet boy just doesn't get it or just doesn't care. I tend to think he doesn't get it -- while he's really smart about scheming for food and planning 6 hour stretches of assorted naps, he tends to lag behind the curve, if you know what I mean, when it comes to normal dog behavior. He just doesn't have it.

If you've heard me write about Bailey before, you know she's the baddest of all doggie badasses. Well, at least she thinks she is and we do nothing to convince her otherwise, because having her as the alpha dog has worked well. Much better than any other arrangement that we've tried since we adopted her from Russell Rescue over 3 years ago.

So Freddy and Bailey haven't been introduced face to face without gates, kennels, barbed wire and invisible force fields between them. I highly highly doubt they will meet face to face. Even with all the barriers, they both go bonkers about wanting to meet and/or kick the other's ass. It's not pretty.

Because of the unrest, while Lindsay and I are at work, we've been putting all three dogs in their kennels, all in the back room. Before I leave for work, I let Freddy in from outside, put him in his kennel, let Oscar and Bailey out, then put them in their kennels. After I put her in, Bailey keeps looking up at me like Okay, you just let me know when it is okay for me to bite him. I would like to bite him. However, I will be good until that time comes. You just let me know, okay? and I'll say Okay, baby-girl, but remember, you used to be in the same situation and now look at you! and then I'll realize that I just had far too long of an imaginary conversation with my dog. But that's totally what she's saying. You know it, I know it, the American public knows it.

So that's some funny. Foster dogs.

That's the 411 on me for right now. Stop by again, soon, hear?

Peace!
Eric