I’ve been
going with momma to look at puppies.
I’m no
longer of this world. I crossed over, peacefully in Momma’s arms on the front
steps listening to the birds chirping.
It was on July
8 ten days before my tenth birthday. Bear, my Newfoundland roommate passed two
weeks before me. He’s cool. I’m cool.
Now I’m
encouraging momma to get a puppy.
The trouble
is we haven’t found many.
I see dogs
all over the place, but then I’m in heaven with Bear, and other dogs momma has
loved. You see, you don’t really lose us. We’re here. We watch you. I tell
Daddy to get his butt out for a walk with Momma so I can walk down the sidewalk
as we used to. (Go to the forest. I love the forest.) I will look out for you. That’s my job.
For the last
nine years I had been treated for Addison’s disease—a condition , not a
disease. My adrenals were not operating properly, thus I required medication.
My pills (cream cheese made them yummy) kept me going and happy all those
years. Hey I traveled with Momma and sister and Bear and Baby Darling on a road
trip across eight states. I slept on Hotel beds. Bear and I stayed in a van in
the shade while Momma and Sister went to Disneyland. At night I slept with
Momma. I flew in an airplane to Hawaii and back. I had a good life.
One neat
thing that happened after I passed was that Momma received a card from OSU
Veterinary School saying that my Vet had donated to the school in my honor. How
cool is that?!
Momma misses
me, but I will find the perfect next dog for her. Hey, in might even be me in a
new body.
The people
in this house and me have discovered a strange phenomenon—I learned that word
from Momma—there are few dogs available for adoption.
Oh there are
purebreds with prices of $2,000, or $1500, or $600 even. I wasn’t cheap. It is
strange though, that the City Pound, and the shelters have few dogs. (Pit bulls
end up there a lot.)
Now I don’t
want any dog to be homeless, terrible terrible, people are our pack. We might be one
dog to you, but to us you are our whole world. It just appears that people have
become control freaks in their effort to control dog population.
It appears
that the powers that be have tightened the laws so tight that the only mixed
breeds available are designer dogs made so by breeders. They are trying to mix
the breeds to strengthen the gene pool. Purebreds have developed some
problems—as I did.
I was a
great dog, a purebred, a poodle, don’t get me wrong. I loved and was loved. I
just had a condition, and for the last year I was stuck daily to give me
subcutaneous fluids.
The rules
imposed on people wanting to adopt a dog are as stringent as buying a house. Applications. "How much money are you going to
spend on your dog???" Geesch. Whatever it takes. The dog must be neutered, given
shots and micro- chipped. (I had to be micro- chipped to go to Hawaii. I didn’t
complain. It was wise.)
I’m not a
control freak. I’m a happy dog. Happy happy happy.
Lighten up
folks.
I will talk
more here on this site…
Love,
Peaches the
Pink Party Poodle for Peace.
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