When our late lamented dog Katie died a year ago, we had known her for 14 of her 17 years. We missed the unruly puppy time, the my-feet-don’t-fit-my-body months, and the angst of a dog’s teen years. I hadn’t had a puppy since I was four years old. That has made adjusting to Ruby, the giant of a dog we adopted last August, all the harder for me.

When we got our current beast, I referred to her as a moose because her legs were ridiculously long compared to her body — she’d look normal standing in a body of water, but once she walked out you’d think, “holy crap she’s tall!” She was 7 months old and weighed about 55 pounds. From the start we couldn’t leave things on the table — and eventually our counter was off limits, too). When we took her to our vet, we were told she could end up at 60 pounds, or she could top out at 80. It was hard to tell, as was her breed. She looks to have shepherd in her, and her coloring is for a Rotweiller/Coonhound/Doberman Pinscher. Her chest is deep like a pinscher. She has webbed feet and a mouthiness her trainer (the inimitable Ali from Kinship Dog Training) says only comes with a lab.

There were a few months when her mouthiness, her unruly behavior made me doubt we could keep her. She’s so big. She has no idea, though, and insists on sitting on our laps whenever we sit down. Unless we are playing The Game. This is the game, according to Ruby. Imagine she’s telling you The Rules.

1. I will put a thing in my mouth. The thing might be a sock or a glove or one of my toys. But I will put the thing in my mouth.

2. I will bring the thing to you, look at you sideways and then run.

3. You will chase me.

4. You can never have the thing. If you get the thing, I will not chase you. You will give the thing back to me.

5. The game will end…never.

The only other thing Ruby likes to do is lick things. Usually people. Any bare skin will do. If I sit at the computer in the office, she will lick my elbow as I type. If I’m on the couch with the laptop, she will lick my feet.

Ruby is smart. All her food is delivered through puzzle toys. I buy the expensive ones from Scandahoovia because I trust them. She figures them out in a day and I go back online to find another expensive toy that will occupy her brain.

Next time, I want a dumb small dog. But in the interim, I just want a good enough dog. One who doesn’t maul visitors in her excitement to see if she can lick them into oblivion. One who doesn’t yank my arm off when she realizes we’re going to the park to play with her dog friends (and you can go a different way, but only once. After that, she knows you’re trying to fool her). One who doesn’t bang on the door to go out back (where she’ll dig in my garden if she’s bored), then promptly bang to come back in — and then refuse to come in.

The dog has been with us for nine months now. Her weight approaches 80 pounds and her vet thinks she may yet grow more. She is very sweet and funny and peculiar. She sucks on her paw when she’s tired; her ears are often inside out in a do we refer to as “Martha Washington” or “Princess Leia”; she’s afraid of umbrellas, large stationary trucks, men in baseball caps, wheelchairs and large strollers, and stuffed people-shaped dolls (think Raggedy Ann). We have come to love her — enough to spend a lot of money on one-on-one training to make her something that isn’t perfect, but is good enough. A dog who will be excited to see you, but keeps all four feet on the ground while she shivers with glee that a new person is here, who will hurry you along on a walk, but not pull your arm out of the socket and save her rough play for her BDF (best dog friend) Miley (a petite golden retriever who plays so hard with my dog we call them the Vicious Bitches), a dog who will maybe use her smarts to do agility courses with my son, a 14 year old who also needs to expend excess energy.

I still miss Katie, but Ruby is growing on me. I just wish she’d stop actually growing. What’s bigger than a moose?

PS: I know there are no pictures here. For some reason, I’m not able to upload photos right now. I’ll add them when I can.