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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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?…..you 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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