3 weeks later

Hello Fine Readers,

It’s been 3 weeks and Jeanie is still here. I hate to admit it, but I kind of like her, even though she’s friggin’ enormous. She’s quiet and she sleeps a lot, like me. Plus, she lets me use her bed sometimes. I heard Mom laughing one day recently “ Who would have guessed?..BB is an alpha dog…look, he has taken poor Jeanie’s bed and now poor Jeanie is trying to curl up in his bed…look at her trying to squeeze into that tiny bed..and look at her expression! haha, it looks like poor Jeanie is thinking “WTF”? Ha ha, it’s hysterical!”  Tommy was laughing too.

I wanted to shout: No, I wait!.. She let me have the bed- I swear! (she really is quite humble and accommodating)  But they never hear it when I speak. Hmmpf.

Sometimes, when we are home alone, I stare into her giant brown eyes and feel a twinge of sadness. I can tell she is worried about her future and remembers what having no home feels like.  I struggle to think of at time when I ever felt that alone and afraid.

Today, the unthinkable happened. Mom took Jeanie for a ride in the car, without ME! I’m beginning to think she likes Jeanie more then me and I’m just heartbroken. She has always called me her number one guy.

I heard a flurry of words I didn’t understand: “Forever family, adoption, a good match”, and I struggled to grasp the meaning of these words I have never heard and the next thing I knew- they were off. I watched them drive away through living room window. I saw Jeanie in the back seat; she looked almost regal -sitting straight and tall, like she knew she was on an important mission. At least she wasn’t  in my spot, in the front seat- maybe I’m still Mom’s number one guy after all, like she claims daily while rubbing my belly. I relax a bit.

A few hours later Mom returns without Jeanie, her eyes red and swollen. I smell a strange sense of sadness and accomplishment  coming from her-all mixed together. It’s so confusing to me. But like Jeanie said, humans are complicated. She was a smart hound.

Mom bends over, a tear running down her check, and gives me a tender kiss.

“But you still have me” I whisper in comfort, but she can’t hear me, like always.

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