On this, my 325th post, I decided to feature a guest writer. Meet Frankie the wonder dog …. AKA Captain Cuddles. General Zozie. Mozey-Dozie. Frankie 6 Paws. SuperFrank. Frankie Bear.
Meet Frankie … our family dog.
I’ve been trying to get my paws on this thing for a while now but Mum’s a little protective with it. I usually just stay near her as she writes; she laughs and smiles a lot when she does.
I’ve been trying to get on here because I want to tell you how she came to be mine.
You see Mum & Dad had talked about getting the boys (my adopted brothers) a dog for quite a while. It seems they’d visited the shelter a few times and always left empty-handed. Well, that’s where I come in.
I was just a little ball of fluff when I found myself there. Oh the people were nice, but it was a loud, scary place and I didn’t like it very much. To top it off, they stuck me in with 6 or 7 older, bigger pups. You ever been tossed into a playground with a gaggle of goons? That’s what it felt like: wrestling for attention, not to mention food. I still eat my crunchies away from my pack, even now.
The day I met Mum will live forever in my mind.
I spotted her long before she saw me. And as they always did, those undignified clods surged the kennel door, clamoring, clawing and yapping for her attention. And that’s when I made my move… by staying perfectly still. I sat as tall as my 11 pounds could stretch, and I pushed my chest out as far as it would go. I cocked my head to the right and gave her my most curious look (see above). And then it happened: She stopped and reached into our pit of puppies. Could it be? Could my dreams really be coming true? I heard her ask, “Oh ..look at you; what’s your story?” She picked me up and cradled me from below. Shyly, I tucked my nose into the crook of her elbow and kept my head down, shivering with nerves and delight. She cooed softly and I felt us moving as she walked to the “visiting” room, whatever that was. She sat on the floor, cross legged, and put me down in front of her. I did the only thing I could think to do: I ran right back to her! She laughed and picked me up again, and then looked me in the eye. I looked back and then burrowed my face into her neck and licked her hand as politely as I could. She whispered, “Are you sure?” and my eyes pleaded “Yes, Yes! Please pick me.” And she did.
A day passed. I got a bath and yelped a little when poked with something sharp. One more big sleep and my loneliness fell away when I saw her coming for me. Me! She took me to meet my new family; it was the best day of my life because I not only got her, I got him plus two glorious boys of my very own! And every day, for all of my 11 years, I’ve had one or the other working out of the house. They have to leave sometimes, and the boys go away more often, but when they come back to me, it still feels like that very first day. I’m older now and I don’t run as quickly; it’s hard for me to get up the stairs or onto my boy’s bed, but I still try because they need me so much. I take my job – loving them – very seriously.
Mum says Christmas is nearly here; I know this by the jingle of the shiny things on the door and the boxes under the tree that I’m not supposed to sniff. I know she’ll bring me squeaky toys and a new bed but what she doesn’t know is that I get to feel Christmas every day. Why? I have a fur-ever family. I wish all animals could be as lucky as me.
Thinking about adopting a fur-ever friend? For tips to consider, visit the Humane Society by clicking here .