Nadine's grandma visits

My mom is my best friend. Maybe not when I was in high school, granted, but even then I can remember only one real fight between us during those trying years - which I believe is a record worthy of Guinness. Daughters hate their mothers from the age of 11 to 17; movies and books say so. But I don't remember ever hating my mom. I don't remember her "ruining my life" as teenage girls are rumored to scream in that awful squeaky voices so many of them own. As a result, she and I have a beautifully strong friendship as adults that I am quite blessed by. I know only a handful of women with such powerful and healthy relationships with their moms. I know how lucky I am lucky to be in that special group.

Now that I've brought my mom to tears that I will pay for with an ultra-sappy card on my birthday, let's get to the point. My mom was the reason I was able to adopt Nadine. She would have talked me out of adopting her, but when she saw Nadie's picture, she didn't even try. She knew that dog needed rescuing and that I was up to the task, even when I was convinced otherwise. When I provided my iron-clad excuse of my upcoming vacation, she offered to drive down to pick Nadine up and take care of her for three weeks. On top of that, she was still willing to take care of her, even after she found out that Nadie wasn't housebroken. In her very clean house with the light-colored carpet. That's a pretty cool mom.

Mom drove down a few days before my vacation to get to know Nadine and learn our routine...what routine there was. We took a few walks and had a photo session:

This was one of the few times Nadine has stayed on my bed without trying to jump off immediately. Probably because she had a cold. Since this picture, she has never wanted to stay on my bed. She can't jump up to it because she's too short. When I lift her up, she always tries to jump off, which is problematic since she needs a parachute to land safely off my Princess and the Pea-sized mattresses. So much for a cuddle-dog!

The highlight of the visit was during one walk from the car to my building. I had never seen Nadine's tail wag. It was always tucked down, not between her legs like she was scared, but just down. I was starting to think that was just what her tail did. She was so shy and timid, maybe she just wasn't the tail-wagging type. During walks, she would follow behind me and never walk out ahead as most dogs do. It wasn't because she was so well-trained that she didn't pull on the lead - she wasn't trained on anything - she was scared and unsure.

As we were coming in, I carried Nadine from the car and put her down on the ground. As we walked, that little tail popped up in the air, the poofball of fur on the end waving in the air. It wasn't quite a wag, but it was most certainly significant! With her tail in the air, Nadine had a bounce in her step that made her look...happy! Flooded with relief that maybe Nadine was improving and settling in, I practically danced to the door with Nadine hopping along behind me.

From that moment on, I have always been able to tell how comfortable she was by the angle of that tail. Her unconscious barometer has helped me relax a bit about how I'm doing as her person. The challenge with pets is that they can't tell us what they are thinking, but Nadine's tail might as well be Helen Keller's hands.

So, Nadine was perking up bit by bit and I was excited to think she might be a very different dog by the time I got back from Spain. I was also nervous that I was changing her world around once again and that might be difficult for her. What actually proved most difficult in the coming weeks were stairs.