Prissy and Bitty were off to the vet this morning-Prissy to get her bum checked and Bitty for bloodwork. The oldest and the youngest (by two months). And Prissy was very well behaved in the communal crate this morning. She is really showing some hopeful signs of becoming a decent little dog.
It really is true-a dog isn't mature until at least 2 years old. Mentally mature, I'm not talking about breeding. Around about a year and half, the tide starts turning, and viola-you "suddenly" have a nice dog on your hands.
Sadly-many dogs end up in shelters at around 6 months-the worst stage of a dogs life and one that lasts for around a year. I have a theory that most people should not have puppies but rather young, trained adults.
That is one reason I would like to breed-because I could do the raising then place them in forever homes (Hah, it would never happen).
I really really would like to go pick out a dog, work with it, then rehome it-but it's the last part that I can't seem to do. And there is the almighty dollar factor, in that I can't afford to do that unless I am reimbursed for the time/vet bills.
The neighbors have all heard Bitty's story and agreed that she should be here and isn't a bit of trouble. (I'm two dogs over the limit, but I could, if I had to, say the old ones live at Mom and Dads'). Theoretically we have 6 dogs we can spread out over 2 yards and I think Carol would let me use her yard too.
Oh goodness-I just had a vision of a neighborhood that rescued dogs and built a community of caring. Imagine.