We somewhat unexpectedly added a member to our family. Rhett.
He’s a 7-month-old Pudelpointer that offered a perfectly timed opportunity to bolster our fall hunting power while skipping the puppy stage.
Our beloved Fins is already showing some signs of early arthritis, plus ended last season a month early with a torn paw pad, which started conversations of becoming a two-dog family.
Because we weren’t looking to add to our family’s already interrupted nights of sleep, adding an already-potty-trained Rhett to the mix felt like it was meant to be.
But even at 7 months, I’m reminded of the energy of a young dog.
Fins has settled in nicely to our lives.
He has no problem lounging away workdays and happily tags along on summer fishing and camping trips.
I think he even knows the difference between spring turkey season and fall upland bird season because he doesn’t put up much of a fight when left behind.
He doesn’t bother Fischer much, and the two have formed an agreeable bond mostly based on the exchange of snacks.
Then Rhett entered the picture.
Rhett was afraid of everyone and everything at first.
But once adjusted, would prefer to be licking your face at all times.
He leaps from chair to couch to floor and sprints up and down the hallways.
He barks at unknown noises and things unfamiliar and knocks Fischer over multiple times a day.
Understanding this, I am a little worried how our offseason adventures might be impacted with two dogs in tow, one of which is a lot more skeptical of new situations.
We’ll see.
I will say inviting Rhett into the picture has livened Fins up a bit.
The two play frequently, and since Rhett needs to let out some of that energy, we’ve reinstated more regular off-leash walks.
I am thankful to have the renewed motivation to stretch our legs more often, but Fins seems to have missed the memo that he is supposed to be the mature, responsible one, because he seemingly runs crazier than Rhett once we’re out there.
Yesterday, I left work early to do just that, to stretch our legs unrestrained.
The sun was shining, the temperature reading on my computer monitor boasted 55 degrees and we needed to get outdoors.
Yet, the walk was just about the farthest thing from relaxing.
Fins was at no time anywhere to be seen, frequently locating birds that required me to go find him and flush, or I’d hear barking in the distance that told me he’d done the flushing himself.
Rhett was seemingly always somewhere in the opposite direction and likely unsure of what he should be doing.
Just when I’d locate one, I’d realize the other had taken off.
This whole two dog thing was going to take some getting used to.
I finally managed to slowly herd us back to the road where I’d parked when Rhett took off into the woods one more time.
I called him back just in time to find Fins cooling off in a giant mud puddle.
At this point, all I could do was laugh.
After several hilariously ineffective attempts to get them both to sit still for a picture with the shed antler I’d found (and they had no interest in), I wrangled them back into the car as we needed to pick Fischer up at daycare.
Despite the chaos, I was feeling much better, out of the funk I’d started our walk in, and I know they benefitted too.
I was reminded of an Instagram post I wrote when Fins was a young pup dated March 28, 2019, on what must have been a curiously similar day.
Things Finley knows more than me about life:
- Worry more about doing what you love and less about muddy pawprints.
- Go for a walk every single day.
- Say hello to everyone you meet.
- Stop and smell the roses (and every single blade of grass).
- Be present in this moment.
- Life’s too short to spend your time on the small sticks, prioritize the big sticks and leave the rest.
- Love unconditionally.
