I first came to be with Mom on a cold, wet September evening over five years ago. I was rescued from the taco house trash by a giant. (At least to me, he was a giant. I was just a puppy.) He took my dirty-self home and called the person who was to become my mom. Would she take care of me until my humans could be found? Surely, someone would be looking for a darling baby Rottie like me!
The giant put me into an even bigger machine. He drove across a bridge and into the country. I had never been to the country. I was a city boy. Where was the giant taking me? Was he going to leave me out here? All alone? Then he came to a small house with huge pine trees out front. A lady came out and tsked-tsked at my smelly, muddy state. The giant handed me over to the lady and left in his machine. I looked up at the lady with big, brown puppy eyes. Despite the mud, she let me snuggle. This was my mom. I knew it.
The first thing Mom did was carry me into the house. She took me into a small room and put me into this big white thing. She started spraying me with water. Water! I'd been wet most of the day!...Hey, this was nice warm water. It felt kinda good. Then she dumped some smelly, sudsy stuff on me and gave me a message all over. It didn't smell as good as tacos to me, but Mom seemed to think it smelled better. She sprayed me with water once again, rinsing the suds from my fur. She commented that with all the dark color running off of me I should be a white puppy. I think she was kidding. She knows about dogs and she knew I was a Rottie. When she dried me with fluffy warm towels, I thought I was in puppy heaven. This was mighty high livin' for a street pup.
Once I was clean and deemed flea-free, I met the rest of my new family. Four of them were stretched-out, low-slung creatures with long ears. Basset Hounds, I learned later. They were all senior citizens and not in very good shape. Arthur walked strangely and was unsteady. It looked as if his back legs had no idea what his front legs were doing.. He had been born with this condition. He was a doofus but friendly. Molly was very old. She was fairly tolerant of my puppy ways. Still, I tried to respect her advanced age. Tina was the least friendly. In fact, she was cranky most of the time and not very patient. Mom made me leave Tina alone. She was dying of cancer, as was the alpha Basset. Twiqui Su ruled the canine roost. I could tell she was Mom's special angel. Her cancer was more advanced than Tina's, but she was good-natured until her last days.
Then I met the black puppy under the bed. His name was Tyler. I found out that he wasn't a puppy at all, even though I was nearly as big as he was. Tyler was friendly enough and was very helpful to me in those early months. He was smart. He taught me how to ask "out" if I needed to do my duty outside. He told me not to chew - a lesson well-learned. He showed me how being in my own "room" (crate) when Mom was gone was comforting, even if he did prefer it under the bed. He was a good big brother - if you could keep him out from under the bed! Mom said something about his biological mom being a high-strung show dog and his dad being quick. I don't know what that means. I tried to ask Tyler about it. He just likes his privacy.
As I grew up, my Basset sisters and brother went to the Rainbow Bridge. It was weird. Just me, Mom, and Tyler (who remains under the bed). Mom especially cried a lot when Twiqui Su was gone. That's when I decided to make myself her new best friend.
P.S. No one ever did claim that adorable puppy I used to be. That's okay. I can't imagine my life without Mom - and I'm pretty sure she feels the same way!
Roguen's Second Page of Awards
Roguen's Great Companion Award
The above is an award you can win from Roguen and his Mom.
