Please excuse a mother’s gloating but I really have to introduce you to our newest baby, Erda! She’s a German Shepard mix! Ergo, the German name.
It’s pronounced like “air-da” or [ˈɛr da] for any of you who know IPA (International Phonetic Alphabet). I got it from a character in Richard Wagner’s “The Ring Cycle,” a German opera about Brunhilde (“It ain’t over til the fat lady sings” — the one with the horns and hubcaps — that Brunhilde!) and Sigfried. Anyway, Brunhilde comes into being when her father Wotan, king of the gods, had an affair with Erda (ERDA!) the wise mother earth goddess, to create Brunhilde, the leader of the Valkyrie.
“A ha!” you think! “Valkyrie! A word I recognize!” See? You’re far more cultured than you think! But instead of a helmet with horns or wings, she has a cone! Poor baby girl got her “lady-parts” done! And since we can’t have her licking the stitches, she got a cone whenever we couldn’t be around to watch her.
But we do have another dog, Charles Barkey, aka Charlie! And while she can’t lick her stitches with the cone on, he could! So we put her in the bathroom while we went to church that first Sunday. Just for a few hours. She’ll be fine for just a few hours…
Well she was fine but the bathroom was not!
How can such a tiny little girl make so much mess?! Not to mention the drapes, the valance, the two pairs of blinds, the door jam, the crotch of my pajamas, Hubby’s shoe, and my shoe. We’ve had her for two weeks at this point. *sigh* Oh well. Things are replaceable and she is so happy to be out of the pound with all the toys (hers and Charlie’s) she can murder. Seriously, our living room looks like a stuffed duck massacre.
But our sweet boy, a two-and-a-half year-old Chocolate Lab/Golden Retriever/Chow-chow mix, weighing in at 130 lbs of solid muscle and teeth, absolutely loves her! And between Charlie (who shows affection by burping in your face), Erda (who makes messes and farts likes a boy) and Hubby (who, let’s face it, is a guy), it’s like living in a frat house! Falling asleep in strange positions, finding weird things stuffed into places they shouldn’t be, and messes every time I turn around, it’s really like my own little slice of Frat-House-Heaven.