Dog Would Not Want to Have Puppies

Wanting to have puppies is what I am supposed to do, right? 

Well, I don’t want to have puppies.  Maybe I don’t want to have puppies because I saw some, like me, just roaming the streets looking for trouble.  I wondered what kind of mother, both dog and human, lets their puppies out around town to just cause trouble?   Shouldn’t they be inside feeding them, or enrolling them in some kind of obedience class, or socialization class, or just something to keep them busy and out of trouble? 

Maybe I don’t want puppies because the animal rescue I was taken into was filled with puppies and dogs.  It was overflowing with small dogs, big dogs, young dogs, old dogs, single color dogs, multi-colored dogs, and old dogs trying to look young.   I should note, it was also filled with kittens and cats.  There were even more of them than there were puppies and dogs.  I did not think this was possible.

Maybe I don’t want puppies because I would be the one that has to take care of them, at least for the first eight weeks, which would seem like a lifetime to me.  I would be caring for them while their Dad goes back to his hard daily routine of eating, exercising, sleeping and just being.  He does not even think of the hardship the mother goes through in carrying the puppies, delivering them and then having to care for them.

Maybe I don’t want puppies because I just don’t like them.  They are all about them.  They want their dog mother to just lie there and feed them all day long.  They then want their human mother to non-stop care for them.  Give me food, give me water, give me toys.   Give me, give me, give me.   If they don’t get what they want, they sometimes resort to taking matters in their own dirty paws.  They take pillows, clothes, shoes, walls, floors, etc., and make them toys.  They essentially say if you don’t give me what I want, I know how to ruin your life!

My dog friends always say well who will take care of you when you get old if you don’t have puppies.  I let them know that this is not a guarantee with having puppies like it once was.  Puppies move out and move all over the place, sometimes being flown to new homes.  They rarely come home.  The good part is that my human parents will take care of me for my entire life - at least I hope they will.  I tell my friends that having puppies to care for you is not the right reason.

Have I made it clear how I really don’t want to have puppies?  I know they would be cute and smart, since I am, but I still really don’t want to have puppies…

~ Tyra

Dog Would Not Really Care That Brad & Angelina Got Engaged

Celebrity news, grrrrrr!!!

I hate to admit it, but I listen to celebrity news or see it in some of the magazines lying around the house.  Today, I saw over my Mom's shoulder that Brad and Angelina got engaged.  What would dog do?

Dog Would Not Really Care That Brad & Angelina Got Engaged.  Don't get me wrong, I love seeing these two talented folks in movies, and also kind of enjoy seeing movie stars doing good for some cause, or any cause for that matter. 

But, why should I care that they are getting married.  Maybe, I should care because I do have a doggy crush on Angelina.  Brad is not so bad himself.

Or, maybe I should care because I could have been a movie star like them (I definitely have the looks) and living the supposed dream like Lassie. 

Or, maybe I should care because pop culture is so important right now in our country.

But, I don't care.  Not because I am better than you, but because I care about what really matters in life and not some silly celebrity gossip.

I care about pleasing the loving family who took me in off the streets, and now who regularly fulfills my many simple needs.  I care about getting enough beauty rest in a day, which right now equates to about 20 hours in a day.  I care about many other things, including some weddings, although I never attended one - even though my parents thought about including me. 

All of these cares consume my day to day dog life, not Brad and Angelina, and I have to be quite honest, life is really good!

~ Meatball

Dog Would Aim For Foster Failure

I have a confession for all of my furry pals.  It is called foster failure, and it is the best thing that ever happened to me.

It all started with this lady volunteering at a shelter who I batted my eyes at.  She came over to my cage and felt bad for me since I just arrived into the shelter and had obvious signs of malnourishment from my time on the streets.  She opened the cage and took me out.

I wiggled, and wiggled, and wiggled some more, and kept batting my eyes at her.  She just kept petting me and giving me much needed love.   I then heard her ask around about me, and the story was that I just arrived yesterday in an Animal Control truck.

She placed me back in my cage and I saw her talking to others about me.  She then left my sight.  I batted my eyes at many others, but in my heart I knew that lady would be back.

I was right!  That same lady came back the next day with a man.  They took me out again and I wiggled, and wiggled, and wiggled some more, and batted my eyes some more at both of them. 

They then introduced me to two other dogs, Aris and Meatball.  They were both black and white like me, and again fell in love with me - or so I think they did.

They put their dogs back in the car, and took me back into my cage.  I saw them walk out and again talk to others about me.  They then signed some paperwork, and took me back out of the cage and put me in the car with those other two dogs.  Off I went to a better place, but I definitely heard the word foster over and over.  I believe the exact wording was, "this is only a foster until she is better".

Surprisingly, two days later with lots of much needed love, I was already better.  I tried to continue looking a little bit sick, but nope I was fully back to good.  At the same time, I just kept wiggling and making eyes with these two people.  I heard them both agree that they could not take me back to the shelter, they had to adopt me. 

HA, HA Suckers - my grand plan worked!

~ Tyra

Dog Would Shop The Garbage

Garbage, I love it!  It calls my name.  Meatball, Meatball come to me.  You know there is something good in here, come to me.

Oftentimes, there is nothing good in our garbage.  Normally it is leftover coffee grinds, or non-meat packaging, or rotting fruits or vegetables.  The garbage still calls for me since it is not covered and I love to shop!

This Easter our garbage got some new inventory.  My parents had family over.  Immediately, the scent entered the house as the guests arrived.  The smell was meat, glorious meat, and as a carnivorous animal I am to eat this glorious meat.

They set the meat on a table too high for my arthritic legs, but the scent filled the house and my nostrils.  My sister and I drooled as we roamed the scene, and watched some of the family members fill their plate with what we knew would soon be our goodness.

They ate and ate, and ate some more.  We drooled, drooled, and circled. 

Finally, I saw my Mom start to clear the plates and dispose of the leftovers down the garbage disposal.  I thought, STOP IT, STOP IT NOW....  She must have heard our thoughts, because at this exact moment is when she went over to the garbage and dumped something in there.  It was something off of every plate and my sister and I immediately took notice. 

Sniff, sniff, sniff, what is it?   Is this Black Friday for me and Tyra?  Seriously, what is in that garbage?  I need to lay low since I am certainly not allowed to shop from the garbage.

But sometimes you have to indulge in your animal instincts.  This indulgence was to happen at the exact same moment as when my Mom served desserts to the already overfull guests.  It was time for Tyra and I to stop window shopping and buy.  I stuck my nose in the garbage and grabbed whatever I could get.  Tyra did the same. 

We momentarily enjoyed doing the dirty - shredding the napkins of the guests who just ate the meat.  It was AMAZING!!!  We shredded and shredded, both looking at one another knowing we were doing wrong.  But, we still shredded our newly found goods. 

Oh no, footstepts.  Tyra and I dropped our ears as our Mom entered the kitchen, who me???  Mom said something that started with no, so we both dropped the napkins, and our heads, and did the walk of shame out of the kitchen back to the guests knowing in our hearts that we could shop again later.