Welcome, Manta Ray

We have a new addition to the family, a lovely eight-month-old puppy we’ve named Manta Ray. (Her ears fan out and flap just like ray wings, and it works with the sea theme begun with Shark.) She was part of an adoption fair run by the APS of Orange County—what wonderful people! Manta walked up to us as we approached the fair and we were goners. She’s been in a fabulous foster home for a while and is a dream dog: housebroken, quiet, sweet. We were even a little alarmed at how mellow she was yesterday. We didn’t hear her voice until she met Quince and whined with excitement. She slept without a peep all night and seemed refreshed and ready to play this morning. I hope in time to train her to retrieve the paper.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed the sound of canine teeth on Kong rubber!

She is obviously part pit bull, and the shelter folks think part basset hound, too. To me, she looks like a souped-up Jack Russell. But her proportions—long and low, with slightly turned-out feet—mean she can’t jump. She’s forty pounds of muscle.

Welcome, Manta Ray!

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