I’d love to tell you all my story. Just sit right there and I’ll tell you all how I came to sit on my throne as the prince of Waldo Bungie! Mama told my story from her perspective awhile back, but she left out some pretty important stuff…
You see Mama decided that Rufus was lonely. Rufus still tells me that he was perfectly happy being the only dog in the house, but I think he’s just trying to act tough. I know he’d miss me if I weren’t here. So, after months and months of Mama convincing Rufus and Dad that they needed another dog, they went to a local shelter to see if anybody would be a good fit.
I was taken to a shelter called Wayside Waifs when I was 6 months old after I was found with my sister roaming the streets of Raytown, MO. My sister was adopted right away, but I had been waiting for awhile for my furever family. I still attribute my longer stay to the fact that the shelter called me “John Boy.” I don’t look like a John Boy – I look like a Turkey – duh!
Anyways, I pretty much had that place on lock-down. The ladies at the shelter brought me breakfast in bed everyday and I even started a small
bone smuggling ring poker group. Anyway, here I am minding my own business when these two pretty cool people came strolling by my crib. I invited them in and they sat down and we had a few hors d’oeuvres (a good host is always prepared) and I let them play with my ball (a good host is always polite). I overheard them talking to one of my ladies about how they wanted a nice small-to-medium sized dog, so I told her to tell them I was part Corgi and wouldn’t get much bigger than the 15 pounds I was…and they believed it! Ha Ha Ha Ha… give me a minute – that one still cracks me up!
Sometimes humans don’t pay attention to the details of certain situations. I tried to let them know I had a urinary tract infection, I mean, why else would I pee right in the middle of playing with my potential new parents? But apparently they didn’t get my OBVIOUS clues. Come to think of it, it took them a couple of weeks to figure that out! I pee’d on the carpet sooo many times before they figured it out…and they thought it was my fault! The nerve.
Sorry, I got sidetracked…back to the story. Obviously, once they saw me they knew I was the right dog for them. They took me home that day and it’s been smooth sailing ever since. I have my own special chair and my own doggy bed. I get to sleep on the ottoman in my parent’s room. I let Rufus think he’s in charge. I even have my parents trained to let me out when I need to go to the bathroom, want to chase the squirrels, or even just when the mood hits me. They do pretty much whatever I want. All in all, life’s pretty good.
I haven’t told my parents too much about what happened to me in those 6 months I was on the streets, but Mama is quite the sleuth, and she did a pretty good job of piecing together my past. You see, I don’t like going on stairs (she used to have to carry me up and down the stairs for the first few months we lived in a second floor apartment), I don’t like sewer grates, and there is a piece of my rib missing. So mama figures that I was pushed (or thrown or fell) down a flight of stairs and that I lived in the sewer for a while before I got rescued… I’ll never tell her if she’s right or not…personally, I don’t like to think about my past, I’d rather focus on my life now with fun games with my Daddy, long walks with Mama, warm sweaters from my grandma, and lots of cuddly snuggles from everyone who meets me. Life is good.