The Girls: Meet Maeve

I've been a bad writer, lately. You can yell at me if you'd like.

"Bad writer! Bad, bad writer!"

If I had a tail, I would hide it between my legs and skitter off. Lay on my pillow and probably NOT write some more. Because you yelled at me. When you yell at me, I don't want to be creative. I've read and heard, and I'm sure there's scientific studies, that stress reduces one's ability to create. So, please, stop yelling at me.

I can't work under such conditions.

I was on fire with this little website in July, and then August came. That's not the only thing that came into our lives...a puppy came as well. She came quietly, on the ride home from up north, two hours away, and we thought, "oh, she's so calm." And then the minute we got home and placed her on the floor, BAM!, she showcased some sassy personality.

She claimed one of the pillows as her own, started hoarding toys, and began to follow around her new big sister, Nigra.

This is Maeve. No, she's not an Australian Cattle Dog, and no you can't cry shenanigans. She's a Shetland Sheep Dog -- in our biased opinion, one of the best breeds out there. As of now, she's only 3 months old, obviously not full-grown yet, and there are times when she is harder than raising a child. Children do things in stages: teeth, walk, run, potty-train, etc. Once a child gets one, you start the other.

Puppies? They're doing all of those things at once. I've been hyper-alert trying to make sure Miss Maeve isn't going potty in the house or chewing on everything under the sun. With all the energy focused on a little puppy, and then any extra energy focused on Nigra, so she doesn't feel neglected, writing has been the last thing on my mind.

Then, I realized, you, reader, needed to meet Maeve. Or Navy Maevey as I like to call her. Even, Maeve the Brave.

She is much more sassy than we anticipated, especially since she was so calm at the breeders and on the ride home. So, I'll divulge in one story for now. Do know, though, there will be many to come:

When Maeve is doing or eating something she shouldn't, like my feet, I will tap her nose and sternly say, "No, Maeve!" or "No, Ma'am!" She will scoot back just a tad, bark fiercely at me and then swat her paw at me, as if saying, "I'm Maeve! You can't tell me what to do."

Sassy, indeed.