After two posts on the loss of my dog Leroy it would be unseemly to say something about the newest edition to our family. She’s estimated to be one year old and was surrendered to Chicago’s Anti-Cruelty Society. We picked her up last Friday.

After mulling it over for two and a half days Staci and I agreed on the name Maeby. Neither of us had named a female pet before. It proved more difficult than we had expected. Though, given the trouble we’d had with the last pet we acquired, it probably shouldn’t have been much of a surprise.

Maeby — then temporarily Chloe — stood out from her compatriots with her zen-like calmness. In the small-animal section of the dog ward she was placed next to a rat terrier and across from some kind of fluffy pooch who carried on yippy conversations. She said nothing, staring out of her door with those perpetually lined eyes.

This was all a carefully constructed ruse.

Upon reaching her new home she began to immediately lunge propel herself skywards, scamper about the apartment, and bark her fool head off. It would seem she was saving her energies until after the paperwork was signed. Smart dog.

She’s quite a jumper, this one. Her favorite game is to repeatedly hurdle the dog from upstairs — he was a good friend to our previous dog and has been seen staring expectantly at our front door waiting for a playmate who will never come out. This dog is easily twice her height and weight, but she vaults over him (while prone) with ease. She’s successfully scaled him standing at least twice.

She’s a good dog, a welcome addition to this apartment, and cute as a button. Meet Maeby.

Maeby, hanging out by the front fence