Woof - We'd love to share this portion of Dogster with you, but first you'll need to login.
If you don't have a Dogster account yet, you can register in about 60 seconds. Registering allows you to use all our free features while allowing us to create a safer, more meaningful environment for the community as a whole.
Registering is fast, free and lets you create your dog page(s), find adoptable dogs, save your favorites, connect to your Pup Pals and more.
Likes: TREATS! given by her daddy and mommy. Her sisters. Tearing up white paper.
Pet-Peeves: Cats that refuse to be dog toys.
Favorite Toy: Stuffed raccoon with a squeaker in the long tail.
Favorite Food: She's a real Memphian--she ADORES bites of barbecued pork ribs!
Favorite Walk: Riverwalk that runs next to the Mississippi River.
Best Tricks: Taking toys away from her sister.
Arrival Story: Brownie appeared in our yard, and took up residence under a rose bush. (Just days earlier I asked the Universe not to send any stray kittens my way this year. The Universe has a sense of humor.) When my husband left for Iraq, his parting words to me were not, "I love you.", or "I'll miss you.". As we parted at the airport he kissed me and said, "Please, nothing with fur comes into the house while I'm gone." Okay.
Well, two years later he came home for good. We had discussed adopting a companion for our older girl, Ginger. She loves baby-dogs, and had had some tumors removed. So, on Valentine's Day, we adopted Louise from a rescue, and Ginger became rejuvenated.
When Brownie Maeve showed up a few months later, we searched for her human in the neighborhood--no one we spoke to had any information about her. Hubby said, "Don't feed her. Don't talk to her." That evening I heard the rustle of the puppy chow bag in the kitchen. "I've fed Louise." I informed him. "If she's sleeping under our rose bush, I can't let her be hungry and thirsty." was his reply. Okay.
I received a phone call from my husband while I was at work the next day. He said, "She's rubbing noses with our girls through the fence. If she's going to be around until she finds a home, I'd better have her health checked by the vet--to protect our girls from catching anything. "Okay." I said.
When I got home, there were three happy romping hounds in the back yard. Hubby said, "She's healthy. In case she still hasn't found a home, I made an appointment to have her spayed in three weeks. I didn't say anything--just smiled.
The next day he came home from work with a new crate and a fifty pound bag of puppy chow. "Well, until she finds a home, I don't want anything to happen to her. So, it's best that she come in the house. I turned and gazed into my husband's eyes--my husband who was committed to keeping our fur-kid count to two pups and four kitties (all rescues). "Who are you kidding?" I said softly, "She's found her home."
It is as if a niche has been waiting just for her. From the moment Brownie Maeve and my husband laid eyes on one another, that magical understanding of belonging blossomed. She completes the pack. Okay. Smile.
The Groups I'm In: !!!! SQUIRRELS! (And other small animals we all love to chase), ♥Mixed Breeds Rule!♥, Memphis Gentlemen and Belles, See you at Shelby Farms (dog park, Tennessee Dogz and Catz
The Last Forum I Posted In: corn not bad?
We would like to wish all of our wonderful Dogster friends and their families--Happy, Happy Thanksgiving! We will be beyond a computer network, and will bark at everyone when we get back!
The other night during rally class, one of the handlers wanted to know my name. When Mommy said, "Brownie Maeve", the lady looked puzzled and remarked, "Well, she must have been browner when she was younger."
I am not named for the percentage of brown fur on my body. Our good neighbor, Tim, referred to me as "Brownie" because I was at first under Mommy & Daddy's rose bushes, and then under the house. He likened me to the elfin-like creatures of folklore in Scotland and Northern England (although all European lores have an equivalent sprite), referred to as "brownies". After my mischief of howling under the bathroom while Daddy was enthroned, and the porcelain toilet seemed possessed--well, the name just sorta' stuck. Plus, I came to it when called.
Mommy likes Celtic names, so she added Maeve. I think "Brownie Maeve" is a pretty name, and not one heard every day at obedience classes. I'm glad that I have a unique name to fit my unique personality!
My Account
(30)
