She's a Miracle

 

 

They tell me I've been alive for a year.

 

What a year.

 

My first six weeks were quiet, the most quiet of my life.

 

Drama free.

 

And then, then, my new family came to pick me up.

 

 

That's my mom. Some say I look like her. Kate often thinks I miss her. To be honest, if it weren't for this picture, I'd have no clue she existed. Maybe one day when Kate can read this it will finally put her mind at ease.

 

These faces below, well, they will forever be etched in my memory.

 

I settled in pretty well. Life was good.

 

And then, well, a little stress entered in.

I began to question this new home I'd been taken to. Kate in particular scared me and I wondered why Mommy was taking this picture and smiling while I was in fear for my life.

 

Little did I know my relationship with Kate would soon become even more deadly.

 

 

Because, just a few months later, I found myself wearing this:

 

 

A contraption no animal should wear. It was humiliating.

 

You see, my friend, Kate, who nearly strangled me to death on more than one occasion, released me from my "post" on a beautiful spring day. Being the curious, naïve pup I was, I saw that as an open invitation to go exploring. Unbeknownst to me, no one else knew about my adventure, that is until Mommy got a phone call from the vet saying they had me and I was okay....I don't know WHAT they were thinking. I WAS NOT okay. I was bleeding and couldn't walk thanks to that huge, monstrous vehicle who nailed my rear end that ended my pleasant escapade...and any pleasantries for the next 6 weeks.

 

For awhile, it was touch and go. While my family loves me, they didn't love me enough to pay THOUSANDS of dollars to invest in a surgery that would save my pelvis. Instead, they chose the cheap way...6 weeks of a prison sentence where I had to remain in my crate. It didn't look hopeful for healing. There was even talk of me going to an animal rescue shelter or, even worse, being put "down." But, call me a walking miracle. 6 weeks later I defied the odds and returned to my normal self.

 

I think a lot had to do with the kids' constant prayers for me.

 

Kate still prays for me.

 

I think it's the guilt.

 

And while I think my family is grateful for my miraculous recovery, I do believe there are days of frustration.

 

I'm still not completely potty trained. There, I said it. In fact, I most enjoy pooping in Grant's room. But that makes Mommy really angry. And I endure several "BAD DOG," comments. If only she knew how embarrassed I was about that then maybe she wouldn't be so hard on me. I watched her potty train Kate and I'm amazed at how quickly Kate caught on. And never did I once hear Mommy talk to Kate the way she talks to me if she had an accident. What gives?

 

In addition to that, there are those occasions, we'll say several...a week...where I do continue to run off. I always enjoy a little cat and mouse game. Apparently Mommy does not. I see her anger the strongest when she chases me down the street, through backyards, up people's decks, across patios, and into the woods. However, she has discovered when she makes a growling "Molly" sound, it scares me and I cower and give up the game. And yet, I find her a bit timid to say it for fear of what the neighbors will think.

Hey, it's scary sounding.

 

However, just recently this think called The Scat Mat has added a new level of scary. Forget the growl, the Scat Mat will send you running with your tail tucked beneath you, wishing you'd never even thought of escaping out the front door. I will call it a victory for them because after "Scatting" once, I've yet to return to the front door.

 

Now, the back door, well, they need to work on that one.

 

Other bad habits of mine that have caused stress include my digging and howling. And unfortunately they've managed to find a "shocking" solution for those. My bark collar is a literal shock. I wised up really quickly when I could and could not bark. And as for the digging, well, the taste of cayenne pepper in my nicely dug holes was quite shocking. I think I'll be staying away from those for now.

 

So you see, my first year, well, it's been dramatic. SHOCKINGLY dramatic. But my family loves me. They even took me to a dog park today as a birthday treat.

 

 

 I'm even getting used to the choke hold.

Hey, after what I've been through, nothing scares me...

 

besides the Scat Mat.