May I present Ascomannis Laevatein, age 64 days on her arrival.
I had to go to three different buildings to retrieve her -- there was some confusion at the airport -- but when I finally found the right place and said I was there to collect a dog, the staff looked at me anxiously. "Is your name Laura?"
"Oh, good. We're ready to let this one go. It's loud!"
Oh, joy. ;-)
She was a little reserved for a few seconds, understandably, but I took her to a patch of grass and used the phrase her breeder had given me, and once she'd urinated her outlook definitely improved. She snuggled right into me, happy to have a person and to be out of the crate. Unfortunately, she had to be crated on the way home, but I gave her a larger one, complete with cushy foam matting and--
oh no! Where was the chew toy?
Laev *screamed* in the crate, not worried but just upset at being confined again, I'd guess. I stopped at a fast-food place for supper for me and fresh ice for her, which she enjoyed enough to quiet for 2 seconds before screaming again, and got directions to the nearest pet supply store. But local time was an hour ahead of my own clock, and en route I realized that I would arrive after they closed.
Then I saw the familiar lights of a Kroger, a grocery chain here. Hurray! I parked and took her to a patch of grass again, thinking she probably needed to defecate still, but she was too excited to be with me and out of the box to remember that. She was bucking a little on the leash and the collar I had was a bit large, and I was terrified that she was going to slip out. The breeder had specifically warned me the night before that she was fast if she got free, and I absolutely could not lose her in the nighttime parking lot in another city! So I popped her back into the crate and went into the store.
Yes, they had raw bones. Awesome.
I knew Laev's litter had been given raw bones to chew on, so this wasn't going to upset her novice stomach. That kept her very happy for almost five minutes, but as soon as I was back on the interstate, she was screaming again. I sang along with the radio, but she was not impressed.
Then my nose informed me that she'd taken care of her pressing need, and the tenor of the screaming changed. Instead of a fussy, "Let me out!" it was now more of a "Ew, my crate's messy!" So I pulled off and cleaned up. The shrieking slowed after that, but she continued to complain. She rediscovered the raw bone, though, and began to gnaw on it as she moaned and complained in a most hilarious fashion. And then, finally, the day caught up with her and she fell asleep.