Where I Learn About Halloween & Become a Poster Boy

I’ve got a lot to tell you about this week so let’s get started right away! First thing, Mom came home one day talking about something called Halloween. She told me that one night every year, human puppies get dressed up in scary outfits and try to trick people into giving them candy. This did not sound right to me, I didn’t want anyone scaring my Mom and Dad and taking their candy (whatever that is) so I asked Mom if she wanted me to chase the demon puppies away. But she said no, she enjoyed seeing them come to the door and then she talked some about training me to give out candy. Humans are very odd is all I have to say.  

A day or two later, she brought home a bag from PetSmart that smelled kind of interesting. You can imagine my disappointment when she pulled out some stupid outfits and tried to put them on me! (Why do even the best of humans have an uncontrollable desire to put clothes on dogs?) The first costume had pictures of a rocket on it. It was dorky and I didn’t want to stick my legs through the holes, so I refused to have anything to do with it. Mom said the only other 2X costumes they had were Winnie the Pooh or Eeyore and I would have looked a lot dorkier in them than the rocket suit. The second costume was just an extra-large and it was a little snug, but not too uncomfortable. It went over my head and then strapped around my belly and I grumbled a little bit, but mostly just for show. Mom said I looked awful cute in that one and she would take the rocket suit back. She said not to tell you what costume it is, we will save it for a surprise next time.

Last weekend, Mom and a friend from work took me to a “Barktoberfest. It was a bright sunshiny day and there were people everywhere, places where they were selling things and good smelling food and about a million other dogs walking around. (It used to be that I didn’t like other dogs too much, but I am getting more used to them now as long as they don’t come near my yard.) The first thing that happened was a huge pit bull came over and kissed me right in the choppers and I decided he was nice so I kissed him back! That must have started something because I tell you I got kissed by just about every dog in the area. Mom said she was proud of me for acting so nice and not getting into any fights. ( I told her that I’m a lover, not a fighter, and she said I was full of baloney.) After a while, we decided to get out of the sun so we went and sat at a table with big umbrella. I jumped up in a chair and Mom put my water bowl on the table so I could lean down and get a drink from time to time.  Lots of people stopped in their tracks and took pictures of us because they thought Mom and her friend were so cute.

 

Then, you will never guess what happened!  I was approached about being kind of a poster boy for the Humane Society! These people try to find homes for dogs who are orphans, like I was, and they thought I might be a good spokesdog since my own story turned out so happily. I said I would be glad to do it and when asked what I would charge, I said a hundred cookies and balls each day. (I drive a hard bargain.) So, tune in next time, friends and neighbors, and I will introduce you to a couple of fine looking furry friends. See you later, alligator!

Where I Learn to Become Part of a Family

Guess where I have been? My Mom decided to go on a little trip, so I had to go to the Pet Lodge. Yes, the name does make you think of rustic cabins with large comfy beds and roaring fires, but all dogs know the Pet Lodges of the world are kennels. Most are clean places with nice people, but dogs never show up on their own and check in for a holiday. We would much rather stay at home.  Take me, for instance. One, there was no one to watch my yard while I was gone. Two, they always put me in a cage at the Lodge like they think I am a lion or something. (OK, I know they keep all the other dogs in cages, too, but I can understand that because a bigger bunch of knuckleheads I never saw.) If they would have let me out to roam, I could have helped with security and brought some sorely needed order into their operation. One poodle, in particular, needed a sharp lesson, but back to the point. I am somewhat bitter about the fact that Dad didn’t have to go to a Lodge, too, now how is that fair? And Mom should have taken me with her. I told her so, but she said I wouldn’t fit in her suitcase….and she calls ME silly. I would have fit just fine!

Even when I first came to live with Mom and Dad, I wanted to be with them as much as I could. Luckily, they weren’t the kind of people who just got a dog and stuck it out in the yard because I would have been miserable. That part was good. But I wasn’t sure what the rules were in the early days and they didn’t always understand about me.  For example, Mom didn’t like it when I grabbed a ball out of her hands, so she would hold the ball up high. I thought she wanted me to jump for it, but when I did, she would fuss at me and I would be confused. Also, they didn’t understand about me, how young I was and how much exercise and attention I needed not to be a psycho-dog. And I learned some things, too! I learned that Dad didn’t much like it when I chewed on his toe and Mom was not crazy about me dropping my ball in the water bowl and then picking it up and slopping water all over the floor. So, we got our wires crossed sometimes, but we managed to figure it out.

I use to get nervous inside when Mom took me someplace and left me there for a while. I would think that maybe Mom and Dad were turning me back in because they didn’t like me anymore and I would be very sad. I knew that Mom still missed the dog that went to heaven. I smelled some dog toys down in the basement one day, but when I tried to pry the lid off the tub, Mom said “No, those are Max’s things.” I also heard her cry every once in a while at night and whisper “Maxie,” just that one word over and over again.  And though I tried very hard to be good, I would forget from time to time and do things on the No-No list like chewing up her laundry basket and taking bites out of a pillow when I got mad. I was a little jealous and thought “Maybe she won’t ever love me like she loves him.” But now I know better. I am pretty sure now that she would never go off and leave me. I think she still loves me even when I am bad. And if something ever happened to me one day, I think she and Dad would cry for me, too, and whisper “Newlie.”

 

 

Where I Tell the Story of My Adoption

Gosh, I’m hungry! It’s almost time to eat so I guess I’ll talk to you to keep my mind off food.  It’s pretty depressing, though, to think a highlight of my day is getting two cups of those brown balls for supper. Such is the life of a dog.


Anyways, to take up my story from last time, the rescue people told me one day that they had found a home for me. They brought me to a Feeders Supply to meet my new family and my Mom and Dad were waiting in the parking lot when we arrived. They looked OK to me then, not like dog-killers or anything, but still I was a little nervous because you never know about people. Plus, I was just about driven to distraction because of all the smells around and all the pee-mails that had been left for me in the parking lot. I worked hard to answer as many as I could while everybody stood around yakking, but I know I didn’t get them all. The rescue people finally helped put me in the car and off we went to my new home which I liked right away. I ran through every room investigating and could smell another dog had lived there once, but something told me that maybe he had gone to heaven. And then I got to go outside where I had a big yard all my own! A lot of riff-raff there, but I knew I could straighten that out in no time. Mom came out in the yard and hit tennis balls to me which is my favorite thing of all time. I got so excited that I tried to jump on her a couple of times, but she didn’t like it so I stopped. During the night, I went in to look at her while she was sleeping and I gave her a lick on the cheek for being so nice to me. She called it a drive-by kiss.


That was just the beginning of the story. Now, I love my Mom so much there are not even words for it and I am not just saying this because she is writing it down.  I love her as much as my ball and, as any dog knows, that is huge. She is the first person I want to see in the morning and the last one I want to see at night. I follow her around all day long so I know where she is at all times. She feeds me all my meals, kibble that’s true, but she always puts a little treat on top to make it taste good. She makes sure I have plenty of water and puts ice-cubes in it because she knows I only like it cold. She brushes me and cleans out my ears (a full-time job) but is a little too hung up on baths in my opinion. She also rubs my belly, scratches my ears, takes me for walks and lets me go bye-bye in the car. When we go up to Feeders, I hide behind her as I am scared of the large, gray monsters called “grocery carts” that live there. I am not sure why, but Mom is not afraid and she doesn’t even have any fangs, just little white nubs that she calls teeth. Mom says I am ridiculous but still her good boy.


I love my Dad second best. I spend the most time with him because he doesn’t have to go to the place called work. (I would like to bite the place called work; I hate it because it always takes my Mom away from me.)Dad is sick and his arms and paws don’t work right. I try to lick them to make them well, but I haven’t seen any change yet. Dad loves me, too. I like to lie on his feet and watch TV with him, but FOX doesn’t carry near enough canine programming. Dad tries to pet me and calls me a good boy, too, although sometimes I am “the damn dog” as in “The damn dog just dropped that slobbery ball in my lap again.” I wish he would get well so he could play with me, too.


Do I hear the sound of kibble?  Gotta go!


 


 

 

Where I Tell the Story of My Early Life

It feels very strange talking to a lot of people I don't know and have never smelled. I'm generally a pretty friendly guy for my breed, but still, I am a German Shepherd and a little protective around strangers. Oh well, I guess I would rather you call me by my name than to yell "Hey you! or "Come over here, dog" so let me introduce myself. My name is Newlie. I know, I know, it's a stupid, wimpy name. Why not Blitz or Panzer given my German ancestry? Tornado, Hurricane and even Mischief sound like strong and manly names. Unfortunately, dogs, adopted or not, are not given any choice in these matters. If we were, all boy dogs would be named "Killer" or "Stud" and all girl dogs would be named"Lady" or "Princess." My only consolation is that I could have been saddled with Nolan for the rest of my life. That was the name I was given by the rescue people before I was adopted.

I guess you have figured out by now that I am not the one choosing the template (What the heck is a template?) or doing the typing. My Mom is doing all that, I just tell her what to write down. She says all the time that I need more "mental stimulation" and I usually just say "Whatever." But I figure it's no skin off my nose to sit here and talk and tell stories and it is way better than doing those puzzle games she keeps bringing home.

This has been my home for about like 100 years. (Mom said more like ten months.) I don't really remember much about where I was before I came here. I was born. The people who helped me get adopted thought I lived for a while in a place where I made puppies for girl dogs, but nobody knows for sure. Then somehow, I was on my own for a while and had to try to find my own food and water. Some days, I couldn't find anything and then I was thirsty and my stomach hurt. And I didn't have any place to go to get away from the heat or the bugs or the rain so I didn't like it. One day, some people picked me up and took me to a very bad place where every time a new dog came in, another dog disappeared. I was very afraid that I would disappear, too, but a miracle happened at the last minute. Some nice ladies took me away from the bad place and were kind to me. I told them I was tired of being on my own and they helped me find a family that I could rescue.

I'll tell you more about myself and my family next time, but I better stop now as it's almost time for me to go on patrol. I have seen a family of rogue squirrels hanging around lately and I need to keep both my eyes on them. I heard somebody on TV the other night say that being watchful is the price we must pay to be safe from our enemies. Mom explained that to me and I figure it must go double when it comes to squirrels. After all, if it's on TV, it must be true!