Day 1-“Hound in the house”

Dear Readers,

I found this letter in the “sent mail” folder on my moms computer today:

Dear Mom,

You said I could write anytime, and since none of the humans are home right now, I figured – let me sneak onto the computer to shoot you an email.

I actully like it here, the people are kind and soooo easily tricked into giving out attention. One long sad houndy look and the female (the fat one) immediatley stops whatever she is doing- she hugs and kisses me, rubs behind my ears and, in this ridiculus baby voice, she coos: “who’s a good girl?…who’s a good girl?.. you are!…yes, you are!”

The guy of the house seems to appreaciate the fact that I am an actual dog. (unlike the white ball of fluff that was already living here when I arrived- who, by the way, keeps laying in my bed) He pats me on the head and reminds me not to go into the gargabe can.  I always forget that one- the garbage smells so good.

Don’t get me wrong, I do miss being with you. I loved the excitement at your house. All the big dogs and running in the back yard. Mostly I just miss you. 😦                                 That being said,  I completely understand why I came here instead of back to your  home:  these people are really green when it comes this foster-dog stuff.  So, if I forget to tell you later, it means a lot that you chose me to break them in.

I understand that I am a “return”,  but I’m not sure why? I was exceptionally well behaved for my adoptive family, just like you told me to be.  But, unlike dogs, human beings are complicated, so I’m not even going to try to understand. When I got wind of the fact was going to be returned I was so worried I’d be going back to that awful place. You remember, the place where you found me, cold and shivering, waiting for my turn to go through that scary door where so many dogs entered but none ever came out. I still have bad dreams about the smell and the helpless fear of my kennel mates.


In this house, the fat one ( she has the same name as me”Jeanie”- isn’t that odd?) has been taking me jogging in the morning. Boy, is she ever out of shape..barely lasts a  mile and is ready to turn back home, meanwhile- I’m just getting warmed up.

Usually, I take a large dump at that point, you know-to express my disappointment.  She obviously doesn’t get the connection, she’ll just turn to me with the old  “…whos a good girl?… are! routine” as we head back to the house. Oh Brother.

But, I know she means well.

So, except for the laziness, I like it here and I am being a really good girl.

Love and belly rubs,

Miss you,

Jeanie the doggie

Dear Readers,

Let me bring you up to speed:

I am the “white ball of fluff” being refered to in the letter, My name is BB and I have recently become a foster brother. Mind you , no one ever asked my opinion, my mom just came home one day with a 60 lb. hound named Jeanie (the auther of the above letter) and my life has not been the same  since.

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