I have no problem referring to my sister's dog as Juno's cousin, however. Perhaps it's because cousin just seems like a generic term for someone who is distantly related to you sometimes in a way that is not entirely clear. Besides, they're dogs.
In any case, I've delayed the introductions long enough. Here is Spicey!
She's a 13 week old Rottie mix (I'm taking guesses as to what else is in that mix!) rescue that my sister and her husband got this weekend. She's gonna be another solid, bruiser -- she's about 25 pounds, which is what Juno was at her age -- and wiggley and squirmy in that best puppy way.Juno was in their backyard when she first met spicey. She was on a leash and startled by the new "intruder" and had to immediately assert her dominance in the pack. After this initial rocky introduction, the two played like they were old friends -- or old WWF arch-enemies depending on how you look at it. They wrestled and pounced and bit and tugged. Juno even let Spicey "flip her" a few times.
There were no actual folding chairs involved (unless you include the patio furniture that the two kept careening into and the various toys and potted plants that fell victim to their paws and teeth), but they were pretty rough with each other. Good to know they have a similar play style. Or as 20 month old Addie says, "Spicey. Juno. Kissing."
Of course, just like kids, they sometimes got fed up with each other -- mostly Juno getting bugged by Spicey's razor sharp puppy teeth and Spicey getting a little indignant when Juno told her to quit biting so hard. But even after these little tiffs, it was hard for them to stay away from each other. The temptation to clamp down on a neck or a head was just too great.
They've met two more times since then and still love playing with each other -- distracted only by a moving ball (in Juno's case) or the possibility of treats (in Spicey's case).
Welcome to the pack, Spicey!
