Patches is my name; running Serendipity is my game.
Let me tell you about myself. I showed up in Missy's yard about two weeks ago and have completely disrupted her life. See, she walked outside and commented on how cute I was. I was happily trailing the painters. "He's not yours? He was sitting by your flower pots, still as a statue." "Not my dog," she says. But she's a softie. Found me a dish for water and FOOD...real dog food.
Of course, she claimed that she couldn't keep me..."I just got rid of the dog house." "I have to go to work and don't have time to fix up an area for him." Now, if she'd come outside earlier.... Anyway, Missy asked the painters to take me. Wide Man eagerly agreed. So why was I riding back to this place she calls "Serendipity" two days later? Seems as though Wide Man's wife wasn't too eager for another dog and Missy had had a change of heart.
Man, did I luck up or what? Three hots and a cot. Err, make that a kennel but I do have a little bed that I have learned to pull out and shake to death when she decides to let me out. And, to really sucker her in, I'll even pull the bed over me, like she pulls up her sheets, when she says good night.
I'm slowly training her to my way of thinking. I need a treat when I come inside from taking care of business. Needless to say she is not a happy camper when I forget and piddle in the house. I've got to work on that with her. When she gets up in the middle of the night, I get to go outside. We're going to be in trouble, come winter time. I've also taught her that food goes through me faster than Sherman marching through Atlanta. When I finish eating, we're off to the races. (She really doesn't like picking up the poop...says it stinks.) And she doesn't like me pooping in the yard so she runs me down the driveway to the field across the street. I don't think the city is going to be too happy about that, either.
What else have I taught her? She can't play on the computer first thing in the morning because I like to eat early. Of course, now that the sun is coming up later, Missy Fraidy-cat is waiting longer to feed and walk me. We've had some interesting walks, around the Square, with Missy carrying a bag of poo. Claims that she will have to carry more than 2 bags if I keep up my pooping streak. I like lots of petting and attention so all those books that she is attached to just have to wait. I also like to play tug of war with the leash to slow her down. This walk is my time; not something that she can rush through. Oh, and that I like to push the swing. Now, I'm a little on the short side but I manage to get the job done...for a minute.
So what type of puppy am I? Missy doesn't know. Maybe when we visit the vet, he can tell her. In the meantime, unless someone claims me, I'm going to play her like a fiddle.
Be Safe. Be Blessed.