First, let me apologize for my one accident the other day in the kitchen and thank you for not getting mad at me. At least it was linoleum With a little refresher, I have done much better since then, so thank you for the rather boisterous cheering as I have been doing my business during our walk time. Oh and thanks for my new name, “Fawn” short for some lady human named, “Farrah FAWNcett.” I think it captures my dainty deer-like qualities quite nicely.
Where to start? I guess I’ll start at the beginning. I don’t really know who my parents are, but if I were a bettin’ pooch, I’d say that I got my color and facial features from the House of Miniature Pinscher and my rather long body and short legs from The Earl of Dachshund. My genetic shedding issues aside, I hope my petite frame will not be too much of a burden when I curl up on your lap.
From birth to your home, I have lived a life that I would make all those “Lady and the Tramp” junkyard dog wannabes cringe. “Stray” doesn’t come close to describing life on the streets of San Francisco. I have seen things you can only imagine and I am sad to say that at some point, someone has been mean to me. If it is alright with you, I would rather not talk about it, but that’s why I am a little shy. Don’t worry though, I won’t hold it against you. I am starting to come out of my shell as illustrated by my increased tail-wagging and stealth lap creeping, so just a little time is all I need.
This brings me to my time in doggy jail. Now don’t get me wrong, the peeps at Animal Care and Control were awesome, especially Tim, Diego, Nakeesha and Linda, but after a while it got pretty old. As you have learned, I am a bit reserved and quiet, so with Yappy McYapster in the stall next to me, my time in the slammer was quite taxing. Sure, I was given three square meals, a clean kennel and walk time . . . but this was still not where I wanted to live for the rest of my life.
And then you all started to come and visit. I think the first person to see me was Dad. Now I had seen this before. Someone walks by my kennel, looks at my papers utters something like, “Ooooo, she is so cute!” and then moves on never to be seen again. I also know that not everyone likes us dogs who are a tad bit short of stature. They think we’re cute but have bought into the big-dog propaganda and are only interested in some dopey yellow lab puppy to be their Marley. As I understand it Dad is not really a small-dog person himself, so imagine my surprise when he bent down to me, pointed this square looking thing and made it make a “click” sound. I could then tell that he liked me by the way he started showing off his opposable thumbs by tapping on that gadget.
But then, after giving me one more kind look, he left.
*sigh* They are all the same. I was not going to hold my breath.
But then Dad came back.
You came back to see me! And this time you returned with another human, the one I have come to know as, “Mom.”
Now I suspected that Mom was going to be a tougher sell, so with my sweetest eyes and a look that said, “At least I am not yapping my head off like that hyperactive schmuck over there!” I turned the dial on my game up to “high.” It took a while, but I think I got to her, because you both came back again. The next time you brought two smaller, but much more excited humans with you, I think their names are something like “cuddlebug” and “beastie” but those seem weird for people names. Anyway, they sat in my kennel for a bit, and I ever so slowly made my way to a lap, to you know, just test it out. And then they came back again with yet another one. Four visits, five humans . . . good golly, I was beginning to wonder how many human puppies you had in your kennel? If I joined your pack, we might actually have to sleep like a pile of puppies.
As I have learned, the “We want a dog!” PAC made up of the three smaller girl humans has been diligently working on Mom and Dad for quite awhile. Thank you for proving to Mom and Dad that you were ready. I know you had to dog-sit for a month, be on good behavior and basically prove that you could be responsible for me. You all are awesome! But at the same time, don’t let them fool you or milk it too much as I think they are pretty excited to have me too.
So now were are learning to live as a family. I love my new crate. I can hang out there when I need a break and I do think it is helping me get used to pooping and peeing when and where appropriate. I am also glad that you met Paula over at Noe Valley Pet Company and got me some great toys and treats. I want to acknowledge that Dad has been a trooper through all of this as I know that buying me an expensive designer matching collar and leash set would not have been his first choice. We’ll have to work on him if we are going to get me some cool duds as I also did hear him say, “No, we are not putting clothes on the dog!”
I know that we have only been together for a few days, but I do want to thank you for the love and care that you have shown so far. I have especially appreciated the lap time, the walks and your patience with me. I have needed this time to get used to a new life, but as the days and weeks go by, I’ll open up, get more playful and who knows . . . I may even bark at something.
And don’t worry about leaving me at home. I am having a blast. Besides blogging and sleeping, yep, you heard right, I am on twitter. You can also look at pictures of me while you are away in Dad’s picture album.
Until then, I’ll be waiting for you to come home and ready for a lap!
PS: If you want to know how some other people have enjoyed their pets, Dad asked a bunch of people on facebook and here is a very sweet post from Dad’s friend, Mark about their dog, Charley.