"Who Are You? Oh, Sorry, Mom!"
Age: 8 Years Sex: Female Weight: 26-50 lbs
|Home:DogPaw, CA ||[I have a diary!] |
"Happy Birthday, Clementine - from sweet Nina!"
"Happy To Be Home!"
"Hi, My Human!"
"I'm Ready For My Closeup Mr. DeMille"
"Sleeping, and Loving It!"
"My Brother & Buddy - My Best Toy, Dunkin"
"In a Quiet Moment" [See My DogsterPlus Photo Book]
Leave a bone for Clementine
Special Gift Box:
Little Girl, Clem, Clemmers, Clementiners, Clemmie, Punkin Lunkin, Pupkin Lupkin
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June 19th 2005
Playing with Dunkin
Doesn't like to be chastised. Doesn't like to be awakened.
Apple. Banana. Biscuit. Carrot.
When camping: the beach, the mountains
Sits up on her buns. Sits, shakes, and downs. The bun thing is the cutest!
On my way to Starbucks to get a Grande Caramel Frappucino I saw a puppy crossing one of the busiest streets in town when traffic was heavy. She was following an elderly woman. When I drove closer to her I noticed she had no collar and no leash on. It bothered me, a lot. I decided to go back and see if she belonged to the lady, and to see if she made it safely in the traffic. I discovered she was not the lady's dog, nor did the woman know where she came from. I picked the fur girl up and she was covered in fleas, wet, dirty, and chewing on a chicken bone. I said a quick prayer for guidance and for the little fur girl. I realized there was no choice but to take her home. And I did.
She melded into my family of fur kin like she had been with them from the start. She has become quite the lady with an indomitable spirit. She's a bit stubborn and lets me know if she disagrees with something. Sharing my life with her is a kick. She is a snuggle bunny, too--perhaps that is why she doesn't much care to be awakened once comfortably ensconced next to her human.
Fur Lady With Spirit
The Last Forum I Posted In:
Clothed in Fur
Outlook on Life ~:
Here I am!
Every fur boy and fur girl will be my friend, dagnabbit!
Patient, curious, loving, sweetly stubborn.
Super Power ~:
I can make it feel like I weigh 100lbs when pinning my human under the covers.
I've Been On Dogster Since:
|April 11th 2006
||More than 7 years!
Special Gifts Given In The Past Month:
Rosette, Star and Special Gift History
for 2812 days
See all my Pup Pals
See all my Pup Pals
May 29th 2006 11:20 am
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Tell Me Why . . .
does no one hold me when I cry?
They say we are a good-natured breed,
cheerful and easy to get along with,
that to be happy there is little we need
A place to have fun and not much more,
good food, a warm spot to sleep, and love
but I won't get that down on this floor.
I was brought here when I was fairly young --
a gawky, healthy pup and though it's been a while
I still recall starlight and the bright, warm sun
I remember running on grass and gazing at the sky
I had litter mates once and we would tumble and play
now there are dogs I can't see, but I hear them cry
When humans come to get me they are wearing white
sometimes they take me to an enclosed patio of cement
I can stretch my legs, but I'm alone. To prevent a fight?
Once, a human pulled me out of my cage and on her sleeve
I could smell the confusion and despair from one of my kind
It made me nervous, I whined and I squirmed, wanting to leave
She flinched, a person yelled at her, and they walked away
since that time, when they come for me, there is no smell
no scent of the others who live in this jail of gray
They use needles and hurt me, but I don't know why
What they do to me makes me feel very sick
They may mumble, "This won't hurt much," but it's a lie
Other times they put me to sleep and I awake in fear
Sometimes something's wrong with my eye or my ear
or I have sores, cuts, and I've lost some of my hair
I'm afraid, and sad, wondering how long will I be here?
Someone should know that my soul is alive
and though they continue to hurt me,
my loving heart remains sweet
I haven't a name, just a number: KB-5 . . .
. . . there are no toys, no walks, no treats
Two humans have come to collect me
one is carrying a small plastic bag
The other, with a needle in hand, lifts me up
and lays me down on a cold metal slab
I'm given a shot, but this time it feels different --
it reaches inside of me, and goes deep
Shivering, I feel like I should cry
but all that comes out is a whimper
Why is there no one to hold me?
Tell me why . . .
the others and I must die?
Copyright 2005, by Clementine's human
For the Beagles who will never have the opportunity to be loved -- and will not know what it is like to live in a forever home -- with those who know what a treasure is the gift that is -- dog.
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