White Dog and the Army rushed to the door when we pulled in this morning. I passed through the blizzard and sat down. Steve came in behind me, carrying a bag. The WDA looked confused.
"WELL?" White Dog demanded. "Where is Anya?"
We left the house early on a mission to pick up the newest recruit of the White Dog Army, Anya but when we got to the vet who was holding her we were told our newest baby had gone through a rough night of vomiting and looseness. She suggested before Anya come home that we do some blood work and give some fluids. Holding the precious girl in my arms, the LAST thing I wanted to do was to leave without her but we agreed. The plan was that we would return for tonight.
I explained all of this to her disappointed siblings as Steve lightened the mood by suggesting that the poor girl was probably just overwhelmed by so much change and that she would be home and fine once she arrived VERY soon...then he served pancakes to soothe the White Dog worries.
Watching the clock all day was exhausting in its own way. Mid afternoon we called to check with the vet who told us all the indications were that our baby was "amazingly" good for her condition and that she was resting while receiving fluids and tummy meds. We could get her tonight.
It was after ten when we carried Anya into the cheers and sniffs of her new family. Her entry into the pack was smooth and warm. She was unafraid; the WDA was gentle and positive. It took her about ten minutes to ask to explore.
Off she went for quite some time leading most of the Army like ducklings behind her.
Steve placed her in her special temporary room in the kitchen as he put together some rice and broth for her. YoYoMa and Trixie flanked her space. When her food was ready, Steve found the precious newbie fast asleep. He put her bowl in the refrigerator.
"Sweet dreams, my baby girl," he told her and motioned it was time for all of us to begin bedtime procedures.