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The Fox and the Hound
Part One
By Angela Arlia

he Fox…

aaaaOn a chilly Saturday morning, I was going to meet my sister at our local Starbucks. On the weekend, Starbucks is a gas station of parked puppies--doggies waiting for their masters to come out caffeinated for their walks home or to the park. Just outside the entrance on this particular day was a cute fuzzy dog that looked like a little fox. As I saw her, I let out a couple "oh how cute you are!" and "hi puppy" comments. She definitely heard me because she popped up to say hello with a lick across my face. I was in love.
aaaaI went inside to get my coffee, reluctant to leave such an adorably affable pooch. As I stood in line waiting to place my order, I kept looking outside at the dog, who cocked her head as if to say "I see you. Why aren't you out here still playing with me instead of being inside?"

aa aaaaI made a little "aaawww" sound, and the person in front of me heard me and said, "Isn't she cute?"
aaaaTo which I replied, "Adorable!"
aaaaAnd he said, "She's up for adoption."
aaaaThe light bulb went on over my head…this was meant to be! And that's how it all started. After a few weeks of fostering Foxy Lady (the name she came with, despite my husband's desire to call one of his dogs 10K), it became official. We were parents again.
aaaaWe have guesstimated that Foxy Lady is a little over two years old and that she's a mix of shepherding breeds. She loves to run and has a ball whenever she's let off her leash in Central Park. Despite her sad story of abuse and being rescued, she has the happiest disposition ever.
aaaaHer mostly black fur is shiny and soft. She has sections of tan fur, which seem to get lighter as she spends time outside. I keep asking her if she gets highlights when I am out at work. Her reply to that is mostly to cock her head and give me a look that I call "cuckoo face." Cuckoo face means she's looking at me like what I'm saying is about the craziest things she's ever heard.
aaaaShe thinks I'm crazy? She's somehow convinced herself that she weighs two pounds when she really weighs 35 pounds. She occasionally can be seen sitting on my lap when I'm trying to read a book. She carefully sits next to me, puts her head on my shoulder or in my lap and, ever so slowly, crawls over to my lap. Even though I have (supposedly) trained her not to sit on my lap, she insists. She's probably thinking, "Hey I run around and keep fit. I can't be much of a bother. Plus, mommy loves me because I'm cute!"
aaaaEven though she is cute, it's not fun to have a 35-pound dog on your lap. Ask my dad. He weighs about 90 pounds, and whenever we are in the car, Foxy takes to his lap. Looking in the rearview mirror, all you see is a silly dog with a big smile on her face. You forget that my dad came along for the ride. I know he's somewhere under Foxy, usually laughing to the point where he wheezes at her silliness. Yes, I should be more of the disciplinarian, but I let it slide sometimes because she makes me laugh.
aaaaFoxy and my hubby like to dance together. My husband puts on some Ray Coniff music and they cha-cha across the living room--her tail waving up and down like a flag before a torrential rainstorm. The best part is the hide-and-seek plays they put on for me. My husband walks up behind Foxy, picks up her paws, and makes her stand on her back legs. While covering her eyes with her front paws, he says "Where is Foxy?" in Spanish. He then moves her paws away from her face and screams "Here I am!" (again, in Spanish). At which point, Foxy tries to grab his hand in her mouth. When you play with Foxy, she's not aggressive, however, when she plays with my husband, the true puppy in her comes out: she tries to nibble him every time. Me, I just giggle at their silliness, happy to have such a great, fun dog in our home.