It was the worse New Years Resolution I'd ever made.
I had been in a shelter - I was scared, and I was sometimes hungry. Dropped off over the holidays I waited and waited for my family to come back but they didn't. I was so lonely, so I comforted myelf with food, but there wasn't a whole lot of it.
I swore that I would find my family, and that if presented the opportunity to eat, I would.
It was several months while I went through treatment for heartworm, but soon I was at a foster Mommy's home with other dogs, and she spoiled me so. Only a week later I joined my new Mom. She let me know I was HER dog and no one would ever separate us. There was plenty to eat, but she was careful not to give me too much too quickly as everything was all so new.
We were at her little home in Indiana. She said I had a "Dad" but they owned a home in another state. She said they'd just gotten married last year, and she had to commute for a bit until a job like hers opened up in the other city, or she retired which wasn't far off. She says she works for some alphabet soup so I figure she's at the place that makes the little red and white cans of chicken goodness.
Dad came down to meet me and after a couple of weeks of settling in, it was time to go to our full time home. Part of the reason mom picked me is I LOVE to ride in the car. Here's our first trip. Mom had a tiny little point and shoot and would take photos of funny cars.
The trip was going to be fun but I'd followed my New Years Resolution which caused me to be in ANOTHER dog house. For when Mom was sleeping I snooted open the bin of dog food and ate myelf a little snack. Yes little. . I eat like a bird (Rodan . . my Mom said).
Unfortunately, it was too much food from what I'd been used to and I barfed on the carpet. Mom said her dog Barkley sometimes ate too fast and did that and didn't scold me, she just cleaned it up, though I learned some new human words I'd only heard down by the docks before.
We were on our way!
I tried to be a good dog. I felt bad about sneaking the food and didn't want Mom to regret adopting me so I was quiet---laying down in the harness she set up for me so I couldn't be "projectile dog" if she had to top suddenly. I was pretty comfortable and Mom talked to me so I wouldn't be scared on our first big drive.
But Mom hit about every pothole there was on the road. Honestly, I think we were driving on a pinball machine. Mom said that's just I-65 and it's in bad shape sometimes after the winter.
Then my tummy started to rumble, and my back end started making noises I'd not heard except when the tupperware lid was stuck. Oh no---I think I'm going to explode. . quick. . I have to go potty. . how do I tell Mom have to potty without bothering her. . .
Kaboom! Oh uh, too late. .
Mom got off the road at a rest stop that was just a couple of minutes away. There was poopy all over the back seat, and all over Mom as she tried to clean it up. I felt so bad, but she got paper towlels and water and just gently patted me and told me it would be OK as she cleaned me up. When she went to the rest room, this woman wrinkled her nose up at my Mom who was covered with poopy. Mom just said "you should have seen the other guy!"
I love my Mom.
But she looks funny driving with ear plugs up her nose.
After a while the smell wasn't so noticeable and we stopped for food. What did I say about not eating everything in sight?
It's a bag of cow! And it comes with some Cow Jus to dip the sandwich in.
Mom - Has anyone told you that large quantities of cow can restore an electrolyte imbalance caused by dogrrhea?
She didn't buy that line of bull. She just gave me some water and some pats and said I could have a bit more food that night.
I guess I'll just go back to sleep.
As we rolled into the drive, Dad was there to great us with open arms and lots of pats.
And apparently a whole bunch of cleaning supplies.Still it was great to be home. I learned my lesson folks, and as Dad met us with stuff to clean out the truck, I got to explore my furever home. I'll still travel with Mom, if she will let me, and promise not to overeat.
Because I'm one dog that knows a good thing when she has it.
I'm glad to be Mom's Lab Assistant - Just call me Special Agent C4.
-Abby the Lab