I’ve had temporary custody of Rowdy for about a week now. Heidi will be here sometime tomorrow to claim him and take him home…except I want to keep him.

He and Luna have finally started getting along (a little bit). And he’s gotten all cuddly. I curled up on the couch to take a nap yesterday and before I knew it he was squirming up against my stomach, pressing his cold nose against my hand. We snoozed for an hour or so.

Another bonus: Taking him for his daily walks has been helpful for my butt. Seriously. We walk to get the mail and back, in addition to my gym time (sadly Rowdy doesn’t come to the gym with me).

He’s always in such a great mood, besides. Dogs are so HAPPY. He waggles around, all cheerful and affectionate. Just seeing him chase his stupid, demolished lobter puts a smile on my face – partly because his legs are so short that it’s hilarious to watch him run.

But LOOK:

Would YOU give him back?

I bet some of you are wondering, “What’s a Rowdy Rat?”

That. That’s a Rowdy Rat. Actually, it’s an upside-down Rowdy Rat. He belongs to Heidi, who is currently vacationing in Lake Tahoe, leaving me with dog-sitting duties.

Not that I’m complaining. I like having Rowdy. He reminds Luna not to be such a major diva, like she ALWAYS is:

That’s Luna making herself at home on the dining room table. Luna dislikes Rowdy. She watches him disdainfully, then hisses in annoyance if he gets too close or too friendly.

It should be an interesting week.

Heidi and her husband went to Billings last week, for the state wrestling tournament. (I was planning to go – my brother was there to compete – but alas, having an organ removed isn’t a great prelude to visiting a crowded, sweaty gym).

Since I was stuck at home, anyway, they asked me to babysit their miniature dachshund, Rowdy. I agreed, and Heidi agreed to buy me a t-shirt. Everyone was satisfied.

Except for Luna, that is. Luna is very territorial. I figured it wouldn’t matter because Rowdy is a dog, and the last time there was a dog in the house (Molly) Luna sat on the top shelf in the pantry for a month and refused to come down. She’s afraid of dogs, or MOST dogs. She wasn’t afraid of Rowdy at all, possibly because he looks more like a giant rat with floppy ears. She took one look at him and I could see the thought bubble over her head. It said: “LUNCH.”

I spent most of the week chasing Luna away from Rowdy, or scooping Rowdy up to protect him from any wayward claws. I think he genuinely wanted to play; he’s used to having other animals around, and he kept approaching Luna, barking and rolling around like he would pounce if he didn’t think it would get him killed. Luna regarded him with open disdain, and kept shooting me dirty looks that seemed to say, “Really? ANOTHER DOG? Or wait, is that a rat? Haven’t I suffered enough?”

She did spend some time on her shelf in the pantry, glaring down at Rowdy when he happened to waggle by. Fortunately, I’m a good referee, and neither pet seems irreversibly traumatized by the experience.

I admit I spoiled Rowdy a little. I gave him a blanket I didn’t like and bought him a ball to chew on, as well as some rawhides. He’s damned lovable (despite having sewer rat lurking somewhere in his ancestry).

I also learned to appreciate Luna. Luna doesn’t drag me out of bed at just shy of 7AM because she has to pee and expects me to watch. Luna doesn’t whine or bark in the middle of the might – the worst she can be accused of is trying to sit on my head and smother me because I forgot to fill her food bowl.

I learned something about myself, too. As much as I enjoy other people’s dogs, I probably won’t have one of my own. I’ll just borrow Rowdy once in a while.

I took Archimedes to the vet for his shots, and to inquire about his incessant sneezing ALL OVER ME in the middle of the night. The vet assured me that because he was a stray, his mother probably wasn’t vaccinated and so a respiratory infection – one that will disappear with age – is the probable cause. She also had some interesting news: what I assumed was his junk, male parts, etc, is actually a wayward tuft of fur.

Archimedes is a GIRL. Female. With a very masculine name.

No wonder she spends all night alternatively sneezing in my face or attacking my bare toes – if I were her, I’d be bitter, too. It also explains why she and Luna aren’t bonding as quickly as I’d hoped (although smart money says the second I put up my Christmas tree they’ll FIND something to bond over).

The problem I’m having is that I can’t leave her name the way it is. It’s driving me nuts. Neither have I had any helpful suggestions as to other names, nevermind that Heidi seems to think “Pumpkin” is an acceptable thing to be shouting from the porch where my neighbors might see me. I refuse to call any pet of mine something as undignified as “Pumpkin”.

Now then. If you love me, you’ll add your suggestions in the comments. Please and thank you.