My New Parent

I'm next to my stuff, all packed ready to go, as I'm transported between Shelley's and her dad's houses.

How could Mommy leave me for days and days? I like her dad but he’s not Mommy. I cried for Mommy and watched out the window and listened for her car to come back. It didn’t day after day. And then she was here!

I did a dance for Mommy, barking and running circles around her feet. I lied down on my back, wiggling my feet in the air. She dropped to her knees and bent over me as she kissed me, rubbed my belly and told me she loves, loves me. She said she misses me. She said I’m adorable. She gave me more and more kisses, and I ate it all up.

And then she left me, again.

And again, and again.

So, I decided to get her back, I would like her dad more. I follow him around all day, or I sit on this special window ledge he made just for me. He also made me a staircase to climb into bed with him, because his bed is a little too high for jumping. He has lots of nicknames for me. Do you want to hear them?

1. Honey
2. Little Girl
3. Sweetie Pie
4. Pumpkin
5. Dear, darling …

It’s like I’m his new best friend. Don’t tell Mommy, or maybe she’ll figure it out and come get me, but maybe I’m starting to like it here. Daddy has a big back yard, and he has the best front window ever to see traffic, people and dogs.

Friendship Problems

Sophie and I are at play.

Mommy doesn’t like it when I won’t share my toys with my golden retriever friend Sophie, even though I play with hers. I like her stuffed bone the best. It’s more my size, not Sophie’s.

I want to tell Mommy that I haven’t learned the concept of sharing. That comes in kindergarten!

I do, however, share my food, and it is so sneaky of us. I eat Sophie’s food, and she eats mine, so that we get to experience new cuisine that way.

And then after all the fun, our visit ends. I wish I could take Sophie home, but she has to stay at her house. I need a 24-7 friend, not only when Mommy schedules them for me. How can I get this message to her?

Woof! Woof! I say as I see another dog in the lap of a driver, like me, as Mommy and I head to my house. We lift our chins and bark and bark. Then my other new dog friend is gone around a corner.

Where did she go?

I didn’t make friends, though, when I had the chance in puppy kindergarten (this is where you learn commands and tricks, not sharing). I was scared and overwhelmed. The dogs were mostly big and, at the time, I didn’t know what to do. I was in a situation where my play bow and my submissive pet-me position probably wouldn’t work with all the big alpha puppies.

Instead, I turned around and looked out the store window and watched the people walk by. I considered that to be fun. I was too scared to bark at them, so I sat by, hoping they would look my way and see that I’m way cute.

Goodbye Zoey?

Dad made this shelf for me, so I can look out the window.

Did I do something bad? Mommy left me at her Dad’s house. I’m looking out the window for her, but she’s not coming back. I don’t understand. She gave me lots of kisses before she left, but I thought she was trying to cuddle with me, which is all right, I guess, but I would rather play.

I see other dogs on leashes and people walk by, and I bark. I bark at the semis and loud trucks that drive by on the highway in front of Dad’s house. I call him Dad because he calls me his little girl and sweetie. I’m not even one year old, and because I was taken away from my parents, I admit I still need some guidance.

Oh, where is Shelley? I yelp, yelp. I whine. I lower my head to my paws and lift up sad eyes. The world is not bringing her back …

All right, I must get used to my new situation. I jump off the window ledge onto the futon and bark at the front door. I run and run around the back yard, exploring all the new smells: grass, the grain elevator, a cat from somewhere close by and dogs next door. I bark. They bark back, and we start talking. I forget about Mommy for awhile.

Dog Sitting Overkill

Shelley works for a newspaper, while I like to sit on them. Notice the word "toy"?

Why is Mommy going on and on about my needing to be babysat? Do you think our wolf ancestors needed babysitters? I just need a pack, and I don’t care if there’s a duck or a kitten thrown in to the mix. I just want friends, and how can I make friends if my requests out the front window are not heard by my fellow kind on leashes? They hear me, I know, because their ears perk up, but they fail to look my way, likely because they are trained. And they probably have dog sitters.

Mommy should stay home with me, forget all that leaving me. For what purpose does she go? What the heck is she doing in the outdoors? What reason is there for her to leave five days in a row, then not for two days?

I have so many questions and no way to ask them. I understand what Mommy says, but she doesn’t understand and is unable to translate my barking.

Why would you leave cute me at home for eight hours? Okay, gotta run!