White Dog gestured toward the kitchen but said, "Don't look, you will frighten her off. Our Gentle Storm WAS truly meant to be a member of the White Dog Army."
I risked at peek and saw our timid, shy girl actually milling with the rest of the WDA encouraging Steve to hurry as he prepared their breakfasts. She pressed her way into the crowd to get a better view of the meals in progress and at one point actually crossed behind Steve into the farside of the kitchen to get an uninterrupted look.
"Pretty impressive," I said to White Dog. "She is making such progress."
Storm noticed me watching her and scuttled back into the hallway where I could not see her. But she was not too put off. She paced between her "safe" distance and the kitchen door where she could remind Steve that she WAS waiting for her food.
The little (Yo cannot believe they even make food dishes so small) pink bowl barely hit the floor before Stormy weather hit. And when Steve removed her protective baby gate, she came back to the edge of the living room to join the rest of the WDA in post breakfast naps...at the edge of the room, but coming closer every day"In no time, that Little Girl will be right in the midst of everything, adding her voice and little prance," White Dog predicted.