In the Great Outdoors

Hooray! Owner and I are in the moving contraption again. I sit on Owner's lap as she deals with getting us to wherever we're going. We get off the big road and then make some turns on to some smaller ones. Then we stop and I hope up on the window and look out. We seem to be in the great outdoors. This is big!

We got out of the moving contraption and walk up to someone Owner seems to know. They exchange friendly greetings and then--so exciting!--the other human pulls a dog out of her car! YES! Someone to hang out with!  The other dog and I start chatting crazily, and Owner tightens her grip on the leash.

All four of us start to walk up a dusty path. The other dog explains that humans like to do this.

So here's what I've learned--the other dog is named Sally, she's a beagle mix, three years old. She's friendly but originally from some place that was cold. In fact, she says they used to have cold, wet, white stuff on the ground.

"All these stupid humans here in warm weather land don't know how lucky they have it. I had to walk in the snow all the time when I lived in the cold weather.  It was awful. But now I'm being rewarded by living here."

So on, and on it goes. We clearly are going to be pals. Owner is wonderful after all!

I am having so much fun sniffing around, I can hardly contain myself. As we descend down a steep path, I rush ahead, until suddenly I sense lots of commotion behind me. I turn around and see Owner has fallen. And she doesn't look too please. Ugh! What is wrong with me?!

A Visit Goes Badly

It's so hard adjusting to a new home. There are new people, new smells, new food, new rules...

Owner tries hard, but really is pretty hopeless. She won't let me play with any other dogs when we go walking. I shout out greetings to them, but she keeps pulling me back. And she spends so much time using her paws on the bright object, intensely focused--like when I'm going after squirrels. She'll look up on occasion and smile and pet me. But she's very determined to work on that bright shiny thing.

And sometimes she goes away. She leaves the music on in the room when she makes the food, and heads out. Without me! The nerve! Sometimes she will come back with treats. But usually she brings back something for herself.

But, really, I shouldn't complain. She feeds me, walks me, and gives me belly rubs. What more could a dog want?

Indeed, life is pretty good. Except for Rufus, the pit bull upstairs, He just leans over the balcony and snarls at me. It freaks me out every time, even though I know he's there. Other than my charming neighbor, I've met a couple of nice dogs--there's Sophie, a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel and Miko, a German Shepherd. We all greet one another on our morning walks, with Owner tensing up every time. Really, she needs to relax.

One of my favorite things to do is to get into the moving contraption and check out the scenery. In fact, we're in it right now. Fairly quickly, we arrive at another home. We get out and I'm taken into a strange place. I start sniffing around with Owner looking on anxiously and an older couple smiling. I go into a big room with lots of chairs. There, in a corner, is a bizarre stationary object that freaks me out immediately. I start talking at it furiously, and Owner and the older female start laughing.

Well, I'll show them. I scoot along and right on the carpet start to pee. Owner turns bright red and whisks me out of the room to the backyard. I see the older woman looking sadly at the rug.

While I've only known Owner for a little bit, I have never seen her so mad. All I know is that what she is saying is the human equivalent of "Bad, bad dog."

I start to wonder if I went too far. Ugh, it is so hard figuring out these humans. Don't they have a sense of humor?!

Stupid Owner Tricks

Rise and shine, Owner, rise and shine! Come on!

Owner turns on the light on the night stand and looks at me with a mixture of happiness and annoyance. She says something to me sleepily. But then she gives me some belly rubs, which are so great. After a while, I pad down the hall behind her and she goes into the room where the food is. She pours herself some sort of dark liquid into a cup, then opens some cold cabinet and pours something white into it.

A little while later we head outside. I am extremely pleased to be outside—a girl’s gotta pee and poop—but Owner isn’t walking quickly enough for me. I dash around happily, with Owner pulling way too much on the leash. But there are birds, and squirrels and so many other things to chase and smell. Much too quickly, we walk back into our home.  I've learned over the years that humans all  have the same patterns—the warm drink first thing in the morning, getting wet in some sort of cupboard, then putting some clothes on. They’re not terribly original, as far as I’m concerned.

After feeding me breakfast, Owner then sits down at a desk in her office and begins looking at some sort of bright object. She frequently puts her paws on it and I hear a soft tapping noise. I’ve noticed this devices come in big and small sizes—the small one being tiny enough to put in a bag or pocket. In fact, humans are always attached to these stupid things. What the hell?! Pay more attention to me, instead!

Later on, after Owner eats (what, no food for me?!), we go outside again. But the pleasant spell of our happy jaunt is broken as soon as we walk down the stairs by a mean, nasty bark. "Who the hell are you? Who said you could move in," I hear from above. Should I respond? I look to Owner for a clue, but she's just looking nervous. "I'm Hadley," I begin. "Just moved in." I move out further so I can see who's talking at me. It's a mean old pit bull. Damn, of all the neighbors to have, pit bulls are the worse. "You better watch yourself or else I'll beat the crap out of you," he snarls. See what I mean? Pit bulls are just plain rude.

We move on quickly, but I'm not feeling as welcomed as earlier on.

  

 

Adjustment Time

The Shelter lady walks me out accompanied by the freckly lady. "Bye, Max! Bye!" I say. And he responds, "Good luck, cutie!"

The Shelter lady hands my new owner some food, and we get into some sort of object. One of the dogs at my previous home said this was some sort of contraption that people use to go long distances. Why the hell don't they just walk? Well, anyway, I'm jumping around SO excited. I'm leaving, I'm outta here! Woohoo! My new owner laughs but wags her finger at me. I'm still springing up and down when the object starts to move. Whoops! Owner looks at me concerned and the contraption stops abruptly. Slam, right into the back of the chair. Oops.

We start moving again and things go better. We move for a while, Owner singing along to some noise coming from the moving contraption. Then we stop and she gets me out of the car. We go into some building. And I realize that this building contains stuff just for me! How exciting!

I scurry around, looking this way and that, and Owner has a hard time following me. Well, she needs to pick up the pace. She begins to put things into a basket--food, toys, a bed, bowls. I like her already, I decide. She's going to be good.

She then spends time in front of some contraption that finally spits something out. Then she attaches it to my collar. After talking with someone behind the counter, Owner hands over some sort of thing that doesn't look like a treat, in part because the lady behind the counter gives it back. Then we head out and get back into the moving contraption.

Finally, after a while, we stop and get out. Owner is talking to me excitedly and with a big smile. I start talking as well, cause why not? She's happy, I'm happy. I jump out of the car with joy and start running. Now owner doesn't seem too happy. She sounds very stern and starts running after me. Maybe I should make this a game. I start running again. So fun!

Uh oh. Owner doesn't look happy at all. I finally stop, pee, and then she picks me up and wags her finger in my face. She gets control of the leash again, and we walk around some more after picking up the supplies from the building that's all for me. Finally, we walk into my new home.

Owner puts me down and I run around. It's nice. I can be happy here. I mean, I miss my old home, but this isn't bad.

Later that night, Owner puts my bed down next to hers. But I jump up on her bed and collapse next to her. She doesn't try to move me.

It's a Dog's Life

So right off the bat let me introduce myself. My name is Hadley, a very cute, sweet dachshund mix, if I do say so myself. Quite simply, I like to hunt for things--especially badgers. That's what I do best.

I am sitting here in some cold kennel at some sort of animal shelter. I'm not sure why, exactly, my former owners returned me. Too cute? Too energetic? Simply too much fun? Who knows. In any event, I get food, water, hugs, and some exercise, but I'm hoping to blow this joint soon. It's not a ton of fun here, and the other dogs are super noisy.

Time to turn on the charm offensive so I can get out of here. OK, here comes someone. A woman with reddish brown hair and freckles. Hmmm...she seems nice. Let's get to work.

Cue big brown eyes, slight ear wiggles and happy demeanor. The woman stares at me for a bit then lowers herself down to play with me through the kennel door. She talks with one of the people who works here. And talks. And talks. Then, after what seems like forever, I'm taken outside to one of the yards. Oh bliss! Oh joy! Oh freedom!

I run around in the lovely grass yard. The two humans look at me and smile and laugh. Then I stop. I see Max--a cairn terrier--in the next yard. Max and I have a little flirtation going on, although it's all innocent since the mean people took away our abilities to really have fun. In any event, we start barking our greetings at each other. The two humans in my yard look on with concerned expressions. "Hadley, stop it!" says the Shelter woman. I glance over at them and decide that if I ever want to get out of here I'd better behave. Max, understanding as ever, says, "Yeah, you'd better stop--they seem to get worked up when any of us talk too much."

The humans then enter into a conversation. Seriously! The hypocrisy of these people! So they can talk, and we can't, just because they're bigger and stronger and feed us?!

Uh oh! The woman with the freckles is leaving. No, dammit, no! Get back here! Take me away! The Shelter woman looks on and smiles. I begin to pout, but it's no cute act.

I sulk in the yard for a while. Not even some friendly banter from Max helps. But then...I see her. The freckly lady. And she's smiling. And she looks happy. And she has a leash. Am I leaving here? Am I?!