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The physics of The Mod Squad:

I have two rescue dogs, Cheech and LC. I adopted both from the Humane Society of Huron Valley. Cheech, a chihuahua mix, was about 6 months old when I found him at the HSHV in 2018. He had only been there for a few hours and had been brought in by his owner for not getting along with a mini pin in the same household, not totally surprising given the personalities of both breeds. At the time, I had another 14-year-old rescue dog at home, Ash, who was still morning the loss of her long-time playmate, another adopted dog of 14 years that I had to put down due to tongue cancer. Cheech adored Ash from day one and they were inseparable for three years. When Ash passed, during the pandemic, Cheech and I were heartbroken. I wandered into the HSHV again just to look at the dogs and bring some temporary relief to my heavy heart, as I didn’t yet feel ready to adopt another dog. But I happened upon a kennel in the back where the not-yet-ready-for-adoption dogs were and found LC, a seven-month-old terrier-chihuahua mix. She was huddled in the back of her kennel, trying to hide. There was a sign on the kennel that read: “Don’t make eye contact, sit sideways in front of the kennel, speak soothing words, put some treats down and she might approach.” I followed the directions and after about ten minutes, LC approached me. She still would not let me touch her. however. I learned she had come in on the Love Train – an HSHV program that brings in groups of puppies from other shelters/states. I was told she was captured as a stray in Tennessee and not yet available for adoption as she was skittish and prone to biting. The staff may have been drawing straws to take her out for potty breaks as it required throwing a towel over her to bundle her up and carry her out. She was anxious but adorable and I decided that day to adopt her. I returned to the shelter a week later to bring her home, though she still preferred to bite my hand, rather than let me pet her. It took her a few weeks to settle into her new home, but she quickly bonded with Cheech. They’ve shared everything for the past five years, including bad habits, and while LC let’s Cheech rule the household she does occasionally taunt him with feigned interest in his favorite toy (a squeaky, rubber ear of corn).

Several years ago, my mother, who lives in Indianapolis and is now 90, opened her home to a little dog whose owner had passed. The dog, a small terrier mix, whom she named BG has been very devoted to her for the past several years. But my mother’s advancing age and increasing health issues recently necessitated her move to an assisted care facility. For more than a month several of my siblings and a niece who lives near mom were staying at her house or popping-in a couple of times a day to take care of BG. This, of course, was not a sustainable plan and I lost sleep worrying, not just about my mom, but also about her little dog sitting alone and wondering when she was coming home. So, in early December I drove down to get BG and bring her back to Ann Arbor, Michigan, and now I have a pack of dogs.

While I have long had two dogs, I was not prepared for the challenge adding this third dog to the household created. There is a concept in physics – classical mechanics- known as the Three Body Problem. There is even a science fiction mini-series with this title currently available on Netflix. I’m not a scientist but I do love to read about science, and new discoveries, and I even added a science fiction bent to my cozy mystery, When Squirrels Fly, Due out on July 28, 2026.

I have a rudimentary understanding of the three-body problem. Seems while there is a formula for predicting the behavior of two bodies orbiting each other, if a third body is added, there’s a problem. Chaos ensues. This is where I am now.  I’ve encountered a chaotic three-body system before, if I count my daughter’s fifth grade experience with two BFFS. But what I learned those many years ago isn’t helping me now.

 I’ve named my three-dog pack The Mod Squad after a counter-culture TV series that ran from 1968-1973. Of course, my Mod Squad is not comprised of hippies without guns working undercover for the police. But there was a promotional tagline for that series: One White, One Black, One Blonde, that oddly seems to fit. I’ve also given them codenames: The Goat, The Grump, and The Gazelle. Now, I’m working hard with team building exercises like group barking by the front window at passing pedestrians, and group squirrel chasing in the back yard. It’s still a work in progress. When at my wits end, I have reached out in search of potential adopters for BG. It’s been comforting to know that there are folks willing to take her in if the Mod Squad must be broken up. But she’s quite attached to me, and in a heartbreaking way as she comes in search of me anytime I am out of sight for more than five minutes. Then once she sees me, she returns to what she was doing - but only for the next five minutes or until I return. She is terrified of being abandoned again so I’m hopeful we can make this work. And I am also hopeful that making it work doesn't require me to solve the "unsolvable" three-body problem.