Nicknames: fluffybutt, punkinbutt, bunnybutt, booger butt, bogey bum, hinkersnoo, buggaboo, beebo, wiggle worm, Young Master Chester Lord of the Manor, Cheesetard, Chest Hair, Chester the Taste Tester, The Cashmere Corgi
Birthday: December 15th 1995
Likes: cuddling and kissing and mirrors
Pet-Peeves: closed doors, most other dogs (especially males)
Favorite Toy: a little fake fur pillow, squeaky fox (a.k.a. Antoine de St. Exupery)
Favorite Food: anything a human is eating (but I never get any of it)
Favorite Walk: any walk is a favorite
Best Tricks: training humans
Arrival Story: My ex-boyfriend was a musician and he went out on the road a lot. I got lonely. One day, my ex's mother (a breeder of Goldens) called and asked if we wouldn't mind a free pet-class Corgi. A woman in North Texas would do a trade with her for a pet-class Golden as long as we promised to neuter the young Corgi. I had spent many heartbreaking months looking in the pound and the SPCA. The dogs I wanted were all too big (example: Irish Wolfhound/Great Pyrenees mix) according to our landlord, and here was a free smaller dog for the taking. We said yes. Since then, the human relationship imploded, but the canine-human relationship is still going strong.
Bio: Chester the Wonder Corgi is just that -- a WONDER! His vocabulary is mightily impressive even when he's ignoring his mommy. He has lived in Austin, TX, Rosalia, WA, Coeur d'Alene, ID and now Los Angeles, CA! He'd like to walk the hills of Montmartre with his mommy, he'd like to do anything as long as his mommy was nearby to marvel in his handsome-ness.
My mom and dad have been taking me all over to see doctors. I am starting to get fed up with this. Normally I am fine with the vet. I don't get scared at all. I'm not scared. I always welcome the challenge of training yet another human, but these visits are becoming more and more painful, and my mommy and daddy seem angry, sad, and confused. I don't like anyone my mommy doesn't like, of course.
I don't understand why I can't walk and run like I used to, but I can't. Mommy and Daddy take me out a lot more because I have had some accidents (well, one wasn't an accident, I waited until we were back inside because I am not amused with all this). I try to chase after pigeons (personal enemies) and cats (just fun to mess with them, got nothing against them personally), but I don't have my old agility and speed. Sometimes I hurt, but I don't complain. Stiff upper lip, what?
Mommy said something about a scan and a possible surgery. But almost a month has gone by and she can't get an appointment, and the last doctor I saw won't call her back. She's really just about had it. I can tell. So she keeps saying that I am going to get wheels. She also keeps saying DM and My-el-o-pa-thy, whatever the heck that is. She seems angry that I don't have a tail now because she would have been able to tell more about this DM stuff sooner if I did. It's true, now that I think of it -- I can't wiggle my nub at all anymore. Is this why I need wheels? Whenever she says I'm going to get wheels, she is happier, but I can tell she's also sad, so I don't always smile back. She's not fooling me. She can't, but sometimes I let her think she has so that she won't cry. I hate it when she cries. I don't understand. I hear my name come up more and more often when she cries, but i haven't done anything wrong, so this is all just too weird for me. I don't know what she means by wheels, but I guess I'll find out soon enough. Yesterday and this morning, mom and dad held me upright and kept putting this thin metal thingie next to my body and saying numbers. It seems something is in the works.
Well, the emergency animal rescue guy finally came after the putz had taken his dog out of the trunk. He called the cops. Then the mean man leaned over his balcony and asked the guy what was happening. The guy asked him to come down. Unfortunately, my mom and daddy were also downstairs with the energency guy. The complaint was supposed to be anonymous. The guys who came downstairs were scrawny but tough types. Mommy and daddy were a little afraid that these losers are going to do something in the days or weeks to come. Mommy is a little less worried since she is both taller and weighs more than both of the evil men. She has also lived in sketchy neighborhoods before and lived through several drive-bys. Daddy is worried that they will use their dog to attack mommy and me when we go out on our walks and is insisting that he take me on walks for awhile. While mommy appreciates this, she refuses to live in fear of two scrawny punk-ass druggies who were probably too stoned to remember what she and daddy look like anyway. The guy who locked the dog in his trunk said he had the right to do this. The emergency rescue man said that he did not. Three cops came. Mommy and daddy didn't not hear what followed. Mommy will call emergency rescue man tomorrow to get a follow up.
Even if these losers try anything, my mommy did the right thing, and I think that's why she isn't afraid. And also we're from Texas.