Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit

I had never heard this charming little southern colloquialism before moving to Virginia. I've certainly never used it in a conversation, but I have heard it. It only came to mind today because our new foster is named Biscuit. I'm not crazy about the name, but he's not the first foster we've had with that name. The first one I remember was a very large male German Shepherd Dog. He came here in December of 2010 and was adopted out in soon thereafter in January, 2011. I remember hearing from his owners upon his passing a few years back. 

Anyway, this Biscuit is a 14 month old male golden retriever. He was just neutered today and he's up to date on vaccines, microchipped, and has been tested for heartworms. He's available for adoption through Green Dogs Unleashed. He arrived here late this afternoon but with plenty of daylight remaining because today is the vernal equinox and sunset wasn't until 7:24 p.m. this evening.

I put Biscuit in the dog yard by himself for a little while and gave him his dinner and pain medication following his neuter today. I let our dogs out of the house (Della, Maya, Paisley, Elvis, and Candace) and everyone came over to greet him through the fence. After the initial meeting I let Della into the dog yard, followed shortly thereafter by Maya and Elvis. Elvis was surprised to find another male and immediately asserted himself, which Biscuit accepted. They proceeded to run and play but I had to break that up because Biscuit is just a few hours post-neuter.

I brought him in the house and put him in the crate in the kitchen and then let Ford and Bailey in to meet him. I put Ford in the crate next to Biscuit in the kitchen, giving Bailey a breaking from her non-stop puppy-sitting gig that she's had since Ford arrived. 

I don't know much about him yet. I just been told that he knows nothing. That just means he's a blank slate, or it just means that he's a golden. He's nice, friendly, playful, seem like a typical golden. Stay tuned for more.