If you read last week's column, you will know that there has been a new addition to the Anthony Organic Dog Ranch.

In recap, as a result of the corralling of two dogs seen running across Military road, (Mrs. A was convinced it is because an earthquake was coming) we ended up keeping one of them.

The last week has been spent dog wrangling with the newbie as it is a somewhat hyper animal of the Dalmatian persuasion.

After Mrs. Anthony and I rescued the dog from the peril of the busy highway, we attempted to return it to its owner.

The owner, it turns out was overwhelmed with having two dogs in yard with a holey fence.

Our offer to hold on to the Dalmatian while he fixed his fence turned into a long-term deal, because after we showed the dog to my father-in-law, the Famous Russian, he almost immediately bonded with the animal, having lost his own pet a few months prior.

Upon the suggestion that the cute but somewhat overactive animal might be loved at this new home, the owner consented to giving it up.

In the hearts and minds of Mrs. Anthony and myself, we saw this as a potential win-win-win-win situation.

The previous owner's difficulty is relieved, the new owner is tickled to have a new friend, Mrs. A and myself feel good about having saved a dog from being hit by a car, and the dog, whom Mrs. A has dubbed "Dot" for its spotty coat, gets a loving, doting new daddy.

But to paraphrase poet Robert Burns, "the best laid plans of mice and men," this utopian scenario has not shaken out quite right.

Firstly, after we got the consent of the owner, he dropped a little bomb.

"Oh..by the way, she got out a few times before...I think she may be pregnant." Pregnant!?

I enjoyed telling Mrs. Anthony about this when I got home. ("Honey, you got any whelping towels? Dot might be a mommy.")

We are not devoid of humor at the Organic Dog Ranch, and even when faced with an impending twist that might produce lots of Dots, we cogitated on the options while we worked on ways to get the jump-up girl to not be so jumpy.

Within a couple of days, our suspicions were UNconfirmed.

Dot was bleeding, and if my high school biology classes offered good information, this means that the dog is NOT preggers, but just needs a diaper.

Minor catastrophy avoided, we fell into the routine of pinning Dot to the laundry room rug while we swapped diaper pads, to which she has become used to enough that she fusses a little less each time.

Still, we had to break the news to Mrs. A's father.

He is a pragmatic man, still ensconced in old country ways.

On hearing that the dog was pregnant for a few days, and then was not but was bleeding like the Volga river and had to be diapered, he said, "Da...in Russia, this is good sign."

Huh? What do you mean, Papa?

"When moon is full, the tides must change."

So much for clearing up that enigma.

He might as well have said it in Russian, but at least he was not phased by the new developments and still wants the dog.

At this juncture, Dot is still here at the Ranch because the Famous Russian has to make a trip out of the country and is not ready to assume full ownership.

This will give us some more time to teach Dot not to jump up and also, after she is done being in heat, to allow us to have her spayed.

Would we rescue another dog from the street again? While it is not on my list of "most fun things to do," the alternative of seeing an animal injured or killed is reason enough.

Even if there was no earthquake, I know there will be another full moon.