The Goat Rodeo entourage got a little bigger

Well, my dear sweet readers, you met "Dobby Dog" in a previous post.  He's a very protective, high strung, ankle-craving, not at all social 5-year-old Chihuahua.

That dog FLIPS OUT when anyone comes into or out of our house (or even approaches our home from a 5 block radius).  He's a sweetheart, but he's not that bright.  He failed puppy class because the only behavior he learned there was to CLIMB UP MY SHOULDERS and perch there shaking because he was so terrified of the other dogs.  An owner of a (gigantic) dog in the class laughed while my dog scaled my shoulder and said, "That's not a dog.  That's a squirrel."  And that's how the dog got one of his middle names (his full name is Chiawoohaha Hurley Squirrel).  

Chi aka "Dobby dog" on his hind legs staring at the neighbors
because my kids dared to leave the house and he seems to feel he is single-handedly responsible for their safety.

He was sweet (to us and us alone.  Everyone else who exists in the world is a deadly predator in his mind), but not that bright to begin with.  It appears our 5 lb, barking, shaking wonder canine left what little brains he had somewhere along the way during the move.  I suspect that, scattered along rest stops between there and here I'll bet you can find the last of this dog's brain cells.

Upon arrival at this house, he decided to try to play leap frog  and red rover with the cats who have claws and very little patience.  Being the dog of little brains that he is, he didn't get the message.  He did, however, get attacked again and again and again.

We thought, perhaps, a friend would help.  After taking into account all his quirks and special needs, we came up with a list of things we wanted in a new dog and headed to the shelter.  Then we headed to the next shelter.  And the next.  After shelter-hopping for a while, we found a very sweet 4-year-old female chihuahua this past weekend.  She was spayed yesterday and we picked her up yesterday evening.

We discussed a long list of possible names (all Harry Potter-related, of course) and settled on one.

And so, I would like to introduce:  Mischief-Managed

Mischief-Managed

Note that, in the background, you can see Peek-a-booDuck, one of our cats, who tells me she will never forgive us for bringing another dog into this house.

Am I the only one who gets the urge to adopt ANOTHER dog just so we can name it I-Solemnly-Swear-I-Am-Up-To-No-Good?