My name is Rogue, and I don't know what the heck is going on. I was born in Missouri, flew to New Jersey when I was still just a baby, and lived a happy life there. (In spite of what you might have heard about New Jersey, it's not that bad, at least not as compared to Missouri.)
Then my Dad told me that some things had changed, and that he had found me another place to live, with a nice lady and some other dog sisters. Well, I wasn't too happy about leaving my Dad, because he really loves me--and I love him too--but I trust him more than anything, so if he said this would be best, then it must be so.
We took a long, long ride to a park, and we met the lady, who is very nice and who talked to me and kissed me and scratched me right away. This I considered to be a very good sign. After my Dad left, she took me for a walk and gave me water and even a potato chip! She explained to me that she's "That Lady," and I got very excited, because all dogs know about That Lady! She's the one we all want to live with! A legend in the barking community! How lucky was I?!?
Then we took another long, long ride to my new home. I slept the whole way, but I was excited to meet my new sisters, and I was sure they must be looking forward to meeting me too!
Fast forward two weeks:
IT'S CRAZY HERE!
I do love my new Mommy, but these other dogs are loony toons!
- They get up on the furniture. Furniture is not for dogs. (But I must admit, I'm warming up to this idea. I find that TempurPedic beats the hell out of hardwood.)
- There is a big white one who looks like a cow, and she is the goofiest of them all. She gets into the dog food, though, so I think she'll grow on me. She has this twist-and-pull method like a food-stealing Ninja, in and out with speed and precision. I do like the occasional mid-day meal, and she seems to be the one to provide it. But boy, she doesn't listen very well. You'd think she can't hear or something, the way she ignores everyone. Apparently, she can even get into the REFRIGERATOR! There is an actual padlock to keep her out!
- There is a little jumpy one who seems to be well-meaning but is mostly just annoying. Mommy leaves a towel by the door to wipe off our paws--the one thing I don't appreciate at all about this new Mommy--and the little jumpy one takes it and wants to play tug of war! It doesn't even belong to her, this towel! And she just takes it! I was shocked.
- There is also a different kind of Mastiff....pretty much like me but with a black face....and she's a bully! She keeps snapping at me just for walking by! I decided maybe I don't really need to walk by her very much. She seems to be in charge. You'd think it would be the Mommy who makes the decisions around here, but nope, it's the black-faced Mastiff bully.
- Then there is another Great Dane, sort of like the cow, but my color and much more poised. She's a little bit snotty, I think, and she ignores me. She might be stuck up. But then again, she at least seems sane, and that's more than I can say for the other three!
- Have I already mentioned TempurPedic?
- My new Mommy talks to me and kisses me all the time and tells me what a good girl I am. I feel a little bit like Mae Mobley!
- Have I explained that the big white one gets into the food? And then shares it?
- My new Mommy doesn't seem to have a job, because she just sits at home all day on the phone. This means I get to go outside a lot.
- The mean one's bark is worse than her bite, as long as you can jump out of the way of her bite.
- There is a big wall around the yard, so I get to go galloping and sniffing all about without a leash!
- We get these chews every night that must be opiates or something, because these other dogs are ADDICTS. (But I like the chews very much, so don't say that I said anything.)
- We also seem to get cookies every time we pee outside, which, as understand it, is our job. (But I'm not complaining about the cookies, either.)
- We got to have cheeseburgers for my birthday! There are five of us! That means five cheeseburgers per year!
- All these other girls are named with a P, and my Mommy said I can have a P nickname too, even though I started out with an R name. She said my Aunt thought of it. I get to be Mommy's potato-filled pasta pocket. :-)
And I love it very much.