Fuzzy, Black Dogs... Plus One

An interloper has infiltrated the ranks of Fuzzy, Black Dogs.

This interloper sports a full, blonde coat. She, as she is a girl, is a bit younger than Bob. She also has energy to spare. She has a very shrill, loud bark, and she's not afraid to use it. She goes by the name of Roxy (which I sometimes spell Roxie, but my inconsistencies aren't what's important here!)

The dynamic, running duo.

Roxy, as it turns out, is a teacup size Pomeranian. Except she's not. Roxy was not supposed to exceed ten pounds, but someone forgot to tell her that. She may be as much as 26 pounds, give or take, which puts her about the same weight as Bob.

Though she is not black and does not have a white spot on her chest, the actual fuzzy, black dog constituency in my household seems to have accepted her. Roxie's eccentricities have allowed her to assimilate into our merry band of misfits.

My main worry is that the fuzzy, black dogs may harbor some resentments toward the newcomer. Roxy likes to run. I like to run. I often refer to her as my blonde running partner. This, of course, causes confusion until I explain that my running partner is, in fact, a quadruped.

Technically, Roxy belongs to my father-in-law, who I normally refer to as Pop pop. My wife and I recently moved in with Pop pop. Somehow, all doggy care seems to have fallen squarely into my lap.

I haven't yet shared the news with Pop pop that I am in search of some doggy dye. After all, if Roxy is to be fully incorporated into Fuzzy, Black Dogs, she will simply have to go Goth!