Where the heck are the rabbits? What happened? Why are we here? I don’t understand? The other day I got picked up for doggy daycare and then the craziest, messed up thing happened. The doggy daycare lady took me somewhere I had never been. She had to carry me through the front door because the man told her I wasn’t allowed to walk? What? Wait. I just don’t get it. Why am I not allowed to walk? So we get in the elevator and I’ve been in one before but this one takes a lot longer and everything smells different and I just don’t get it. Angie, the daycare lady, knocks on a door and then WTF? There’s my Mom like nothing happened. I lick her face and run around to smell everything. Some things smell right but other things don’t smell right at all. I see some of my toys and Mom gives me some peanut butter.
My Mom’s friend, Chris, comes over and I know him because he took care of me when Mom traveled last week. They take me for a walk but there’s no grass just cement. Where am I supposed to go poop? Ahhhh, finally some little speck of grass. I do my business and we go back home. I’m really confused. Mom seems really busy unpacking and I’m just wandering around and then I realize there is this big huge window and I can see a bunch of stuff. Mom sees me looking out and then she opens the doors and I walk out and there are bars so I can’t walk out too far, only my head. It’s weird. I am outside but I’m kind not because I can’t get anywhere. Mom lets me back in and I’m so confused I just go lay down on the couch, a little while later she joins me and then we go to bed. I know this bed and I am comforted by the way my Mom holds me.
She can call all she wants. Give me a duck, anything.
The next day we go to a park. I don’t know this park. Where are the frickin’ rabbits? This is not the park I know. There are all these dogs hanging out with each other and that’s all fine and good but I want to find something to kill. What? Wait a minute. My Mom is not holding my leash. I run and run and run. I hear here calling me but I don’t care. “River”, “River”, “River”…I don’t give a rabbit’s ass. She can call all she wants. Give me a duck, anything. She finally catches me and she’s holding the leash again. We go back to that strange place and I head to my new favorite spot beside the balcony it’s the closet. It’s dark in there and everything smells familiar.
We go for another walk today was so cool, I find a partially eaten bagel with cream cheese. SCORE until my Mom rips it out of my mouth and throws it too far for me to snatch. We go into some store and they had moving stairs. I’m scared. They are moving up and I want to run back down but Mom doesn’t let me. We are back outside, OMG! I find all these yummy chicken wing bones but Mom keeps yanking them out of my mouth.
So now we are back at this strange place again. Maybe we are going to stay here. Maybe if I go to sleep for a bit and dream about chicken bones, bagels and cream cheese and rabbits when I wake up, things will be back to normal.
Love River.
Author’s Note: Sniffed from the archives in honor of our 4th Rescueversary on April 22nd.
Oh, I love the stories dogs have to share with us. Please thank River for sharing his confusion, his fear, his understanding, and his small comforts. Love River!
River really appreciate you’re arf-felt sentiments Vicki
OMG Shelley, I love this! We have two Shih Tzus with distinct personalities, even though they are brothers. I often say, ”What are you trying to tell me?” Your story is most entertaining and captures what we furry parents want to know.
I look forward to more of your articles, whether it be from your dog’s perspective or not.💖
Darlene, thank you so much. River is rolling over in appreciation and thanks you for pawsing to express your kind sentiments!
Great story and way to rescue the little guy! Very sweet.
Again, River says “Rank Rou”
Oh, I love this one so much! Thank you for sharing River’s point of view!! I think Layla has a lot of sassy things to say to me. Thank goodness for our furry friends and pets of all kinds as we navigate the unchartered waters, the stormy seas of change, challenge, and lives coming to an end. I love you, my friend!!
Laura, I can only imagine how much love Layla is held in on a daily basis! I’m so very grateful for our fur babies and how wonderful it is to get to take him for walks ad nauseam these days. By the way, his favorite treat is Chinese fortune cookies but he doesn’t believe them.
Rescue dogs are the best, I think, because they know they are being rescued. Breeder dogs are sometimes like “Yawn…who me?”
Great writing especially the part about eating anything repulsive on the ground.
So funny Jeff. I grew up with 3 breeder dogs, Yorkies. They really did have a sense of entitlement! River say’s “Rank Roo!” as he is unable to pronounce “th”
Gotta laugh, Shelley! I’ve had 14 rescued dogs (so far), and I’m sure each had a wild story to tell, many times about having been dumped or passed on to someone else … and then rescued by someone who loved them to pieces. Your River looks a lot like my little Duke (a Chihuahua), who just came to live with me three months ago.
Fun story and thanks!
Wow Susan 14!!! That’s amazing. I’ve had several myself and I too have wondered about their stories. Mostly, I’ve wanted to eat my dogs in a sandwhich so to speak because I love how much they love and I simply want to embody this love however; I wont eat my dog in sandwhich because I have celiacs and don’t like GF bread so I guess I’ll just take a PAWS and kiss, hug and pet him like crazy. Please tell Duke we say hello. Thank you for reading and engaging with River’s story.
Ahhh, from the point of view of man’s best friend! Thank you for this one, Shelley. I wonder what my furry kids are thinking sometimes, too!
With pen in paws, they just may tell you Melissa. Thanks for sniffin’ around River’s story!