Friday, July 21, 2006

BLU's Bio


Woof, woof, arf rrr h-h-h-h-

Oh, sorry, I forgot that I need to translate into English. Too bad altavista’s babblefish doesn’t have a dog to English translator. That would make writing this blog much easier for me.

It was a dark and stormy night. Oh wait, that’s a different story. It was a dark (but not cold) October evening about 7 years ago, I was about 1 year old and was wandering the streets alone and hungry. Not sure what to do or where to go, I was resting under a bush. Suddenly, a big lumbering pit bull/lab mix passed me, dragging a rather nice looking lady behind her. I decided to see where they were going. The big dog, Tequila, encouraged me to join them, saying how much fun the nightly walks were. The lady didn’t seem too keen on that, and kept trying to shoo me away. Every now and then I would stop or take a detour to check out a dog in a yard as we passed, but I kept running back to them.

After walking what seemed like miles (it was 5!) Tequila and the lady finally went home. Tequila invited me to spend the night, so as soon as the lady opened the door, I ran in to make myself at home. She promptly led me back outside and closed the door. Some invitation! I stood outside the door for the longest time, begging to be let back in and explaining that Tequila invited me. I heard Tequila on the other side of the door, trying to explain that I was a guest. I guess she was convincing, because she opened the door and let me in.

For the next few days, the lady tried to get rid of me. I heard her calling Animal Control, the Humane Society and several other missing pet organizations. She took my picture (even though I hate cameras!) and made posters with me on it. I must admit, I’m pretty darned cute. I think I overstayed my welcome, because I overheard her on the phone one night telling friends that this was just a really bad time to get another dog, but she couldn’t take me to Animal Control because they considered chows aggressive breeds and would euthanize me (whatever that means) if my owner didn’t claim me in 10 days.

I guess Tequila did a good job convincing her that I wouldn’t be too much trouble (if you didn’t count the corners on all her new furniture that I chewed off), and finally she decided to let me stay. Of course, that decision wasn’t necessarily pleasant on my end – it involved a trip to the vet for shots, getting spayed, and getting a collar and tags. In retrospect, that wasn’t a bad trade off for daily hugs, kisses, food, water, shelter, and play time.

Life at my new home was pretty good for about three years. We had a nice doggie door that allowed Tequila and me to run in and out of the house at will, while “my girl” was at work or out with friends. Suddenly, one day we were being locked out back all day. Even though we had shade and water and enough toys to play with, I missed my soft couch during the day. I missed laying on the cool tiles. I didn’t like being outside all day, especially when I could see strangers wandering around in my house!

About a month later, “my girl” was boxing everything up and taking us to a new house. This new house was so much fun. There were windows everywhere! I could see all the action on the street and there were lots of trees and bushes in the back yard. I could chase lizards and birds all day. The fence was a bit different – instead of concrete block it was wood. If I pressed my eye against a crack, I could see into the neighbors’ yards and into the alley. How exciting!

Tequila was a little more excited than I was. She would just snap the boards off and go for a walk through the neighborhood. Sometimes I would follow her, but I didn’t really like exploring on my own. It reminded me of being alone before my girl found me. I like staying with her better. After a few “jail breaks” the girl figured out how to fix the fence to keep us in. I felt much safer after that.

About 2 years after moving into the new house, Tequila got sick. At first she was just slowing down, but then she started to have other problems. My girl became really sad and started giving Tequila lots more attention than me. I was a little jealous, especially when Tequila got all sorts of car rides and I had to stay home. Tequila told me I didn’t miss anything – just trips to the vet to be poked with needles and prodded. Every time my girl went to the vet, she came back with red eyes. She was really sad about Tequila’s illness.

One night Tequila seemed really sick. My girl noticed it too and spent the night on the living room floor next to her. When Tequila wasn’t getting better, she carried Tequila to the car at 5 am to go to the emergency vet. I don’t know how she picked up Tequila, who weighed nearly 100 pounds! As they were heading out the door, Tequila gave me a kiss goodbye and said not to worry about her, that her pain was going to end. My girl came back from the vet a couple hours later – alone - her face red and puffy from crying. She picked me up, put me in her lap, and just hugged me. She cried on me until my fur was wet. That was pretty gross, but I knew she needed me more than ever. Truth be told, I needed her too. Tequila was my best friend and now she was gone.

We were both really sad for a couple of weeks. I couldn’t eat and didn’t want to play. My girl took me for walks and to the dog park and even invited her friends and their dogs over for a play date. I didn’t want to play. I missed my best friend. I was lonely during the day when my girl was at work. I needed a new friend, but I wanted my old one back.

A few weeks after Tequila died, my girl came home smelling like other dogs. Then she snapped on my leash and took me for a car ride. We went to a really scary place. There were all sorts of dogs and cats in lots of cages. Some of the dogs seemed happy, but most seemed scared and desperate, like it was their last chance. I sure hope she doesn’t leave me here!

A few minutes after we arrived, a lady took us to a cage with a fluffy white dog. She put a leash on that dog and then we walked to a large grassy play area. I didn’t like it one bit. It smelled like a lot of dogs and the white dog smelled funny. I tried to be polite, but I was very nervous and scared. The white dog was too. The next thing I knew, my girl, the white dog and I were in an office, and my girl was filling out all sorts of paper work. Then they put a big scary collar on the white dog that made his head look like it was bigger than my body! It was really scary. I didn’t like it one bit and decided I would growl once we were in the car.

The white dog didn’t seem to like the car either. I scared him out of the back seat and into the front, where I know dogs aren’t allowed. He kept trying to crawl on my girl’s lap while she was driving, his giant head blocking her view. I’ve never been on such an awful car ride where we kept driving and stopping, driving and stopping. My girl would alternate between being cranky and laughing and sometimes even crying a bit. If I knew how to open the door, I would have, to let the nasty white dog out.

Unfortunately, the white dog made it to the house. My girl kept him in a crate when she wasn’t home, so we didn’t fight too much. I didn’t like him – he was pushy and rude. He peed on my furniture. He jumped on my girl. He drove me nuts with all his barking. I wanted to be really mean to him, but my girl would get mad at me if I was too snarky. After about 2 months, I decided he was here to stay, so decided to play nice and get along. I can’t believe it’s been a year and a half with Comet. He’s still an obnoxious pain, but I actually have fun playing with him now.


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