ADOPTED

Cheerio The window blinds rattle & the Lazy Boy recliner moves 3 inches. I don't have to turn around to know that little Miss Cheerio is wrestling with 84# Buster, age 13. Seven Goldens squeeze into my too-small office, and the old observers interrupt their afternoon naps to watch the show. Two minutes of raucous fun; friendly & happy silliness, and then its over...snooze time again. What did we ever do without a puppy in the house?

Cheerio's youth brings a sense of purpose to our otherwise sedate family. The Oldsters share responsibilities of puppy rearing: Uncles Tag & Buster supervise 6:30 a.m. trips outside to potty. Madeleine shares her prized hideaway under my desk. Auntie Chili demonstrates backyard sunbathing. Goldie makes thrillingly scary monster faces as the two girls romp in front of the television. Ace instructs neighborhood barking as Cheerio listens intently. ...One twilight morning, I watched out the window. Cheerio was running & dodging & leaping around 15-year-old Tag, who lay in the grass. Tag pretended to grab at Cheerio, barking "Get back here Little Girlie!"...for a little while, Tag was young and silly again.

Cheerio is 8 months old and in that in-between time...almost grown up, but not quite there yet. She has a touch of a herding breed in her history, but we're not sure what variety. She's likely as big as she'll ever be, 40 pounds of beautiful blonde fluff; perfect. As I think of her time with us, it has been a blur of happiness...zooming to her crate for breakfast...carrying her stuffed duck...perching at the top of the stairs, a little observer...rolling the food puzzle across the kitchen, dropping bites of dog food along the tile...squeezing under baby gates to meet new dogs...stashing balls & toys in our bed...riding in the Explorer, face at the air conditioning vents...patiently lounging in the Lazy Boy as she waits for me to finish working at the computer...sitting expectedly for tastes of cheese-in-a-can, payment for outdoor potties...lickety-lickety-licks...groaning dramatically, telling us she's not sleepy yet...pretending to be limp as a bag of flour, so we'll lift the little sweetheart, carrying her to her crate, tucking her in at bedtime.

Cheerio is ready for her own special adoptive home, will it be yours?

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