The Bloggy Doggy

Katy Lou

Well, I have been on this journey with my mom for about a week or so, and I am having a great time. Yesterday I found a box of chocolates on the bed so I ate one, and ever since, I have felt compelled to tell you a bit about myself. I’ve been watching my mom do the blogging, so I decided to have a go.
My name, at present, is Katy Lou. I have a dog name, of course, but I can’t tell you that—it’s not allowed. My mother was a lovely but naïve Border Collie, and my father was a traveling brush salesman from Labrador. He left my mother as soon as he found out she was in the family way. She had a hard time of it, weaning and raising us eight children, and some of us, I’m sorry to say, were adopted out when we had barely opened our eyes. I was taken by a family who seemed nice, but they didn’t appreciate my exuberant kissing and leaping at each and every arrival. The man was quite surly and hit me once on the nose with a stick. I still bear the scar. (My therapist thinks it might be more than once. She says I’ve blocked it out. “Think of bacon, think of bacon, think of bacon.”)
At any rate, the family decided they couldn’t keep me, and I landed in prison. Cold wires, cement floors, and the barking….my lord, the barking! One day a lovely couple came to walk through, and I heard them talking. They wanted a smallish dog, an adult, and “a cuddly sort.” So I affected a rather worldly, jaded look, hunched down a bit, and cuddled up with them when they took me to the yard. (I am not such a cuddler, as a rule, but the situation was desperate!) It worked like a charm, and though I was sad to see my compatriots left to rot, I was ready to go. There was a short waiting period, during which some rather unspeakable medical procedures were performed, but I did get a rather hip tattoo on my belly.
When they came to pick me up, I almost put the kibosh on the deal by exhibiting insane barking behaviour, but the good people knew I was under enormous stress and ignored it. I am now at home with them, and what a life it is. I have several cushiony beds, my own feeding area with mood lighting, toys and balls galore, and the run of the place. I sleep on the bed at night, they take me for walks, and sometimes I get some eggs and bacon with my morning coffee.
I used to be somewhat upset with my new mom and dad because they didn’t take me walking enough, but they remedied that by bringing home a pet for me, Woo-Woo. His photo is below.

Woo-Woo


Woo-Woo is an excellent walking companion and also is quite adept at feeding me, being blessed with opposable thumbs. He generally dresses in overalls and an engineer cap, but occasionally, although I find the affectation dreadful, wears a tiny velvet smoking jacket my mom found at the Goodwill. Everything was perfect until one night when Woo-Woo and I were eating popcorn and watching the Discovery Channel. They had that show on about Koko, the signing gorilla, and that was it. Woo-Woo picked up the sign for kitten that Koko uses, ("all ball") and after that it was “all ball, all ball, all ball,” until we had just about had it. My mom had to get Woo-Woo a kitten to stop the constant mad signing. So we got Tootsie. (See enclosed photo) I didn’t mind, really, as I enjoy cats and cat by-products. Tootsie is great fun and we play chase a lot. She leaves me little snacks in the yard and rides on Woo-Woo’s shoulder. We make quite a picture walking down the street, me with my blue leash, Woo-Woo in his velvet jacket, and Tootsie riding on his shoulder. (yes, I am ashamed to say tbat I wear a leash, but I am impetuous when it comes to rabbits and will leap into traffic to get at one)

Tootsie

Things were going along okay until we went to visit my Grandma on the farm. When we got home, Tootsie had smuggled something along in the trunk. It was Evelyn (see enclosed photo). Evelyn is a lovely chicken and lays delightful little eggs for all of us, and Tootsie likes to play with her feathers. Tootsie became enraged that she hadn’t got a pet, so she took it upon herself to get one. Although my dad remarked that as we appeared to be moving down the food chain and surely snakes had to be next, he let Tootsie keep Evelyn. So, they are all at home right now while I make this journey with my mom and I miss them. So that is what I had to tell you. Now if you will excuse me, I am going to see a fat lady my mom met in the bath. She has a cookie for me.

Evelyn