Dogs in a manger

As I guess y’all have gathered, it has been tough to write openly here the last few months while keeping the secret of our move to Tuscaloosa. Now that I’m moved and settling in, I don’t have to worry about what might come out if I open a new post, so I hope to be showing up more here in the days to come.

Right now, though, some vital information for your everyday life: we recently discovered the Origin of Sprocket.

Sprocket, 12 weeks

Since we have yet to grace my mother-in-law with human grandchildren, she has a collection of Sprocket pictures on her phone to show off at events. Last weekend, when her friends brought out the prints of the little people who share their genes, she pulled up some familiar bared teeth and flailing legs for their viewing pleasure. During the ensuing conversation, she mentioned to a friend that Sprocket had been one of the litter the shelter staffed dubbed the “Alpine Pups,” after a historic church in the area, where the friend was a member.

The lady immediately became very excited. “I remember those puppies!” she said. She had, it turned out, been one of the church members who had found the little “mama dog” and her litter of four puppies near the church in December 2010. They had called the shelter because they couldn’t figure out how to remove the puppies from their hiding spot.

Which was in the church’s living Nativity scene.

Sprocket, 6 months

I don’t mean to alarm those of y’all who are familiar with her history, but I feel compelled to point out that there’s a strong possibility my belligerent dog was born in a manger.

Behold. She is come.