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A Mutt's Tail ... Tale .... Something like that.

Moving Day

As Moving Day approached, I amped up my tail wagging and sloppy kisses. I wanted to make sure my Family knew where I wanted to be. Finally, I heard one of the Girls ask the question I'd been needing to hear the answer too, "What about Miss T, Dad? What will the neighbors say when we take her?"

Wait, did she say WHEN? Could it be?

"Well, I'll just tell them. She's not going back over there. And Tugs was our dog, so she's half ours, what can they say? The only thing we need to worry about is how we're going to transport that box of hers. It sure isn't going in MY car."

I WAS MOVING!!!! I wagged my tail so hard I nearly fell over! They were taking me, in fact, they weren't even debating if I would go or not! And they were bringing my box (although I don't see why it couldn't go in the car. Sure it had a few years worth of fur and stray bits of food and toys hidden in it, but who cares about that, right?)? Could these people get any more amazing?

The Father was true to his word. He went across the street and told Mom's people that I would be moving across town within a matter of days. Sure, I'd miss Mom, but I was completely blissed out! My Family loves me! Possibly as much as I love them, but I don't think that's possible.

A few days later, we were on the road. My Family put me in a car (and my box in a pick-up!), which was pretty scary, and took me to New House. They snapped a, er, whatchamcallit, oh yeah, a leash on to my collar. I'd never had one before, so I ignored it and tore around the yard exploring. Soon, the Little Girl (who was still attached to the other end of the leash - impressive) offered to show me to my food bowl. Heck yeah, I wagged. Not only did she take me to my food and water, but she showed me this amazing shed. It was HUGE and cozy, and there, in the corner, was my box! I couldn't believe it; this was going to be my home. Then the Father took the leash from Little Girl and unsnapped it. Somehow, while I was jumping all over him and licking his face, and smacking him with my violently wagging tail, he managed to hook something else to my collar. He and Little Girl called it a "run-line." It was pretty sweet! They explained that since we all lived in town now, and since the yard wasn't completely fenced in, I couldn't run around free like I had in the Old Neighborhood. I think they felt bad, but honestly, I didn't care. The run-line was looooooong and made this cool zzzzzzip! sound when I went full speed! Plus it ended in some bushes and trees which were soooo shady and wonderful!

As I settled down in my box that first night, I knew I was going to be happy. Home is where my Family lives, I thought as I drifted off.

How very domestic!

So, I settled into a happy routine with my new people. I couldn't believe how good to me they were. Even after I was feeling better, they let me keep that big box of clothes I had jumped into. The Mom, the one in charge of all the clothes donations, shrugged and said, "Well, I guess it's okay. It's just one box. Besides, it's all furry now." The Little Girls giggled and gave me knowing smiles. I knew they'd been lobbying on my behalf. So to show that, yes, I could be a good dog, I stayed out of every other box. I just needed the one, no sense in being greedy.

Life was good. I had tons of food and water, which I didn't have to fight for. I had lots of Kids to play with (even the Girls' friends liked me!). Mom visited me all the time. And the Dad-Person kept mean dogs out of the yard. Years passed. Can you believe it?! YEARS with a happy family! Then one day, I heard my Family talking about something big. They called it "Moving". I listened long enough and learned that they were LEAVING! I didn't know what to think.... What about me?! Were they leaving ME? Or just the house? Would they take my BedBox? Who would feed me? Please can I come to?!

Little did I know, my Girls were asking similar questions.

Home Sweet Home

So anyway, when I last wrote I was telling you all about the nice Family my Mom introduced me to and what a nice break from life they were. Here's the story of the day I decided to make them mine forever.

One day, the biggest of the mean dogs at my Mom's house was in a bad mood. He was lookin' for a fight and I accidentally stumbled into the room. He snapped. To this day, I still don't know what I did wrong. But he wailed on me. I wanted to show him that he won, that I didn't want to fight, that I'd stay out of his way. So I rolled on to my back and whimpered. I saw him lunge toward me and then I was engulfed in pain. Oh, my poor, poor tummy! The big jerk had slashed a huge gash, a good five or six inches long and easily an inch deep, on the softest part of my belly. Did I ever wail! Mom's humans showed up to see what the noise was all about. Now, I've said all along, they weren't my biggest fans. But they weren't evil. They did have a soft spot for dogs, and they weren't going to let me bleed to death on their floor. They took me to a vet and he stitched me up.

As soon as I got home, the big dog came after me again. He got in one good smack, but I was running. Just as fast as my stumpy little legs could carry me. I ended up across the street, groggy and disoriented. The Girls were playing in their yard. Confused, I decided to just go with my standard greeting. I rolled onto my back and gave a weak wag of my tail. They ran over, intending to lavish me with belly rubs. Instead, they stopped in their tracks, then turned and ran for their parents. I guess I'd ripped my stitches open. So the parents whisked me away to the vet again. I don't remember much except their soft voices and gentle hands. Boy did I hurt! Then they brought me back to their house and opened up the garage door. There, I found food (lots of it. The vet said the only thing that saved my life was my excess tummy fat, so the Family never had qualms about letting me stuff my face ever again) and a big dish of water. And then, the best part, boxes everywhere, filled with old clothes that the people were transporting to a charity, box by box. I didn't know the boxes were for give away, so I struggled up into a big one near the door and went to sleep. As I drifted off, I remember thinking, "This is it, I'm home. And I'll NEVER leave these people again."