Happy Valentine's Day!

Luci was a shy little dog when we first met, most likely traumatized by numerous moves from one strange place to another. After being mysteriously parted from her first family, she'd wound up in a "kill shelter" from which the excellent SNIPSA rescued her for adoption. Then she had shots and surgery.  Janet took one look at her online and said she knew she was the dog I was looking for. She said it with the certainty Elena later proclaimed that her name was Luci, and both Janet and Elena were right. 

When she walked, she walked slowly.  She didn't run at all.  She didn't chew on shoes. Even with a painful tummy, she jumped up on my bed that first night (and every night since) and slept all night   Like any other orphaned puppy, she just wanted lots of love and affection. She was--dare I say--perfect. 

Now that she knows this is  home, she's shown me more every day about who she is: she walks confidently on a leash.  She'll get in the car, albeit reluctantly.  If I give her a taste of something she doesn't like, or maybe likes enough to save, she'll bury it in the ground and cover it up.  Inside, her burying spot is under the bed.  But she will never, ever, reject it outright--as if she doesn't want to hurt my feelings.  

She runs like the wind, laps and laps, round and round.  She fetches the ball and then plays Keep Away.  

She is no longer a normal shy little dog.  She has a big and lively personality.  The first few times I got up in the middle of the night and stayed up for a bit, she would wake up just long enough to cock her head in a gesture that I took to mean, "Are you crazy?  It's sleeping time!"

So for the first time ever, on Valentine's Day morning at 1:00, it was she who woke me up.  I figured she had to go pee, so I put on my glasses and started looking for my bedroom shoes.  One was right where it was supposed to be.  The other was MIA.

"Where's my shoe?" I asked her.

Next thing I knew, crazy puppy that she now is, she brought it to me--but refused to hand it over.  She had Keep Away in mind, not bringing me what I'd asked for.  She ducked her head and did her haul-ass run around the circle of my house, up on a bed, through the living room, through the kitchen, up on another bed, and to the back door.

I'm laughing--so naturally she thinks she's cute and entertaining and she has more where that came from.  So she does it again, hauling a gray bedroom shoe that is almost as big as she is.  Finally I retrieve my shoe and we go outside, but not for long--it's freezing!

Have I turned this girl into a crazy lady, like me?

Or was she always Crazy Lady and just biding her time to show me?