In January of 2013, a promise was made to the kids: At Christmas of 2013, we would get a family dog. Facing daily pressure, I held firm to the Christmas timetable … until July, when Bandit arrived.
A Michigan rescue who came to us via Rachel’s Mom (Nani) and Aunt Jo, Bandit is a one-year-old Bichon/Havanese.
Though his attempts to sleep with Pat and Rachel, and to eat at the kitchen table were thwarted, he has settled in after a series of compromises. He accepts his role as Vivian’s personal mannequin (within reason), and we accept his penchant for relocating dirty socks. He tolerates dry kibble, and we look the other way when one of Vivian’s colored pencils gets eaten. He makes do with three walks per day, and we make sure none of those walks happen at night (he put his foot down). He agrees to keep quiet, and we agree to tolerate his barking when it’s absolutely necessary … like for the doorbell, knocks at the door, other dogs walking by, the washing machine, ice maker, garbage disposal, animal shows on TV, electric toothbrushes, the mail man, wind gusts, sneezes …
His goal is to score a bed with a personal fleece in every room of the house. Only two rooms to go! It’s only been a month, but he eats good, sleeps good, loves to play (twice a day, 10 minutes per session, thanks), and comes when he’s called … unless he’d rather not.
Which is to say he’s a perfect fit here.
The Sutherlands 