Dogs and Relatives

We were dogsitting this weekend for Earl's niece's dog. She and her husband went to Philadelphia for the weekend and asked if we could drive up to let the dog out three times a day. We said we'd just bring the dog to our house. Her name is Hannah and she's a beautiful creamy cinnamon color with a tail that curls up and around. She's about two years old. She jumps a lot, which leaves her skinny. She's medium-sized, coming up to my knees and she's a mutt with a longish snout. Sounds simple enough, right? Well, three incidents convinced us that Hannah may be a danger. Here's where I need your advice. Do we tell Earl's niece that her dog is antisocial in hopes of protecting future children and visiting pets?
Tucker and I brought Hannah home and the cats immediately took to the high road, climbing on the mantel and window sills to avoid the dog. Hannah barked at the cats, but seemed much more interested in hanging with the humans.
Saturday morning, Earl and I walked down to the post office to mail a package to Grace. Then we stopped at Caribou Coffee. We couldn't take Hannah inside so we thought we'd stop by Sheila's house to warm up.
Sheila has a dog about the same size as Hannah, but her dog is named Little Ann. Little Ann did not seem too thrilled for Hannah to visit. They sniffed each other for a few minutes and Ann began to gather her toys so she didn't have to share them with Hannah. After a few minutes, Ann climbed up on the couch next to Sheila. As we talked, the dogs settled down. Then before we could move they were snarling, teeth bared then biting. We grabbed Hannah's collar and pulled her back. Our visit ended there until Sheila texted me that evening to say they discovered an inch-long gash on Ann's belly. Hannah had drawn blood.
The neighbors have a dog named Rocky. Medium-sized, but furrier and sturdier than Hannah. Hannah and Rocky met through the fence. They ran back and forth along the fence barking at each other. The neighbor suggested we bring Hannah over to play with Rocky. Earl took her over and the dogs ran and barked for a few minutes. Then snarling and biting ensued. The neighbor was yelling at the dogs and Earl was afraid Hannah would bite him. He dove into the dog pile, which happened to be in a rosebush, and pulled Hannah away from Rocky. Earl came away with a gash from the rosebush. Hannah had drawn blood again, although inadvertently this time.
Earl and I sat on the couch discussing the dog incidents. He suggested that Hannah is an alpha dog and tries to dominate even when she is on another dog's turf.
Tupi had climbed into my lap. Hannah came toward Tupi and got too close. Tupi reached out and swiped the dog's nose. He didn't draw blood or leave a mark, but Hannah yelped and jumped back then came toward me and Tupi with her teeth bared. Earl yelled. I mean really yelled and pulled the dog back.
Usually, when a dog gets swiped by a cat, it backs off. Hannah instead moved to attack.
We returned Hannah this afternoon, leaving her in her kennel in the family room before Earl's niece and husband flew home. She called and told me they were home and asked if everything went okay.
"It was fine," I said. "She didn't get along with the cats." We both laughed.
I know. Grace has already told me that they need to get busy socializing the dog before she gets older. But they're a young couple without kids and their dog is their baby. I especially didn't want to go into a litany of the dog's misbehavior when they were just off the plane.
So what do you think? Do I call them and non-chalantly give the details. Do I say I'm worried about the dog and go into details? Do I just let it go and refuse to keep the dog next time?
We always had kids climbing all over our dog. She knew she was at the bottom of the pecking order -- even under the cats. She barked a lot, but I don't remember her baring her teeth at anyone or another animal.
Is Hannah a danger to other animals or people, especially children? Do I tell the niece?

Furry Visitor

This spring Grace has been walking the dog of a friend who I teach with. The woman has a stress fracture in her leg and can't walk her five-year-old golden retriever. She pays Grace to walk him five days a week. On days when Grace has to work and has swim practice, or during the craziness of graduation, I would sometimes walk him. He's a nice dog and I didn't think twice when she said she needed someone to watch him while she goes on vacation. (She has a husband and an 18-year-old son who are both home but won't help with the dog.)
I agreed to keeping the dog here and didn't think about it again, until I mentioned it to Earl and he said, "I don't want a dog in the house."
That put me in quite a pickle. I felt like I had committed to keep the dog, so I told Grace we would have to brush the dog and clean up dog hair everyday to alleviate the hair situation.
Grace drove his gates and bowls and foods home in the car while I walked him the mile and a half to our house. He got a bath in the backyard and quite a bit of brushing before we let him inside. Here are the clumps of hair we removed from him.

He's a good dog although he has gotten us up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom both nights. I think he sleeps in my friend's bed, so isn't used to being alone at night.
Well, he isn't exactly alone. He has the cats, who, as you can see, feel right at home with him.

Lucky Me

This little guy has kept me busy this weekend. No, I haven't lost my mind and adopted a puppy. The first few minutes of holding this wriggly guy, my thoughts were, "Oh, he's so cute."
But by the fourth time he peed on the one rug in the house and pooped on the wood floor behind the chair, I remembered why I don't have a dog.
Lucky is his name. He's a miniature beagle and pug mixture.
"What do they call that?" Spencer asked. "A bug?"
No actually they call it a puggle and Grace is dogsitting him. Of course, Grace has a very busy life, so while she's gone to swim practice and concert competition, I get to keep an eye on the dog. At first we let him run around the house. Then we figured out we needed to keep him confined to his kennel or outside. Last evening, I took him out twice and he peed twice within the span of half an hour. Fifteen minutes later, he peed on one of the girls at Tucker's birthday party while she was holding him. Back to the Kennel for Lucky.
He's 10 weeks old and about five pounds. I'll try to get a picture of him next to the cats so you can see how tiny he is, and so he doesn't look so evil.
We're making progress, I guess, because when I got up this morning, he hadn't peed in his kennel, which he did yesterday. Right now, while I have my morning coffee and check my favorite blogs, he's outside in the yard alone and he has stopped scratching on the door. I'd better go check on him. He goes home today. What a relief!