I mean, could this dog be ANY more suited to our family. He loves sharks, like Lee! The first weekend was a raucous and joyful time, and at the end of each day he curled up on the sofa, exhausted from learning his new home.
We've given him a bunch of nicknames this year. Here's a brief list:
Within the first week, he managed to open the garbage and consume a chicken carcass and then get stuck under the deck, in the dark. Now we always take the garbage out as soon as dinner is done when we have a rotisserie chicken, and we have a lock on the cabinet where the trash is. And he remembers not to clamber under the deck
Also within the first week, he snookered us into letting him sleep on the bed with us. Very occasionally, he sleeps with one of the boys, but most nights he's curled up at my feet, and when I wake up in the morning he has stretched up alongside me. He goes out, but then comes back up and snuggles with me, as if he knows that getting up in the morning is always the hardest thing I have to do every day. I can coast once the day starts, but getting out of bed, facing that I have to get through another day when I'm just not feeling it. He puts his head on my chest and looks at me like I am the greatest thing he has ever seen (including a chicken carcass.) He is my dog. Our prior dog, Shadow, was Lee's dog, despite me being the one who adopted her. Jack picks me, every time. I very selfishly love it.
We have an unknown number of years left with this dog, who is energetic and sweet and gentle and snuggly and a scavenger and smart and an absolute perfect fit. We're going to make every single moment of those years count. Someday, I'll be laying my head on his chest, and looking at him like he is the greatest thing I have ever seen, because he will be old, and frail, and fading, and I need him to know that he helped us become stronger as a family when life was really, really rough.