(My original argument was 'get a gun.' Why? You don't have to feed a gun anything but bullets, and they don't poop in the yard...)
After a long week in Montana, I came home to a black German Shepherd named Princess. She's 18 months old, fairly trained, really sweet, and one sharp cookie.
Except... Princess. What a lame name...
Melody is very well-behaved, and just needs a little more training before she's the perfect dog. Unlike the Miles experiment, this dog may just work out for us. She wants to socialize with the cats, but not eat them. The cats are adjusting better with Mel than they did with Miles, so I'm quite pleased.
My one complaint really isn't a true complaint, but she's definitely mommy's girl. She still needs an escort outside to potty, because she has some major separation-issues. I take her outside and she'll do her business, UNLESS the gf is home. Then it has to be her.
I almost wanted to name her Shadow, because she shadows my gf around everywhere. It makes sense, since they were alone together for two days before I came home, but she's still not adjusting to me as fast as she is to 'mommy.'
Best of all, Miles didn't last 3 days before he overwhelmed us. Melody is on day 5 and things are good.
I think it's official... I have a dog. Well, not exactly. The girlfriend has a dog. Maybe I'll eventually get one of my own? We will see.
If I ever get a dog specifically for me, he's going to have to be a consummate road dog.