My Stands-on-Two-Feet-Parents

My parents are interesting people that show a lot of love. My mama is usually planning something or planning to plan something and my papa is usually assembling something, fixing something, disassembling something or pulling weeds. Occasionally they loose their minds and dress me up

or set me up on a blind date.

But they also do some really cool things like the time they raised a tiny, baby squirrel that a friend of theirs found in the middle of the rode. We named him “Nutz”, but probably should have named him "Chewy", because he chewed the entire house up. He eventually went to live in the little, phermonal red man’s backyard, but that's another story for another time.

My parents also allow the barn swallows to invade our patio and drop down some tasty bird pool every year.

And although they’ve always treated ME as the baby in the family, lately the stands-on-two-feet parents of mine have been chattering about and rubbing my mama's tummy to no end. My canine senses are definitely on alert, because there is something brewing among the two-feets…

The Thunder Rolls

Now there is one thing that really tucks my tail – thunder! As the saying goes “everything is bigger in Texas”, well nothing could more true than the storms blowing through Carrollton, TX my home for the first 3 years of my life. A calm, lounging under a palm tree day,

could quickly turn into a booming, shaky dog night. SHAZAM! With the onset of the first thunderclap my best friend Little Peeps would make like a scat cat to the most secluded closet in the house. Me, I always prefer to wrap around the nearest human ankle; hopefully without bringing the biped companion crashing down. BOOM! Of course, nothing really fluffs Shaka Boo’s tale. CRACK! She would gladly sit perched high watching us scrabble in terror. CRASH! Her eyes glaring and taking mental cat notes of what sent Little Peeps and me into “pet”emonium fits. RUMBLE! Finally, as the two of us scurried to our safe havens, Shaka Boo sat high on her perch and

finished mapping out an exit plan that only included Little Peeps.

August 2004 – The Pack Grows By One

MY CHEEBIE IS HERE!!! MY CHEEBIE IS HERE!!! WOW, what a grand and glorious day! My Cheebie has come to visit and it couldn’t have been better timing because my stands-on-two-feet parents left for a few days. My Cheebie is the most wonderful of all the biped persons in the world. She rubs me until I pass out and she hasn’t ever been photographed in her entire life without me in her lap.

Me and my Cheebie Christmas 2004

Me and my Cheebie Christmas 2005

Me and my Cheebie Christmas 2006

Me and my Cheebie Thanksgiving 2007

Me and my Cheebie Christmas 2008

Oh and this me and my Cheebie on the see-saw. She was defending me from my can't-bite-through-one-of-his-legs uncle.

After a few days absence by my mama and papa, my Cheebie brought me a strange gift. She let me have my papa's shirt, which had a peculiar scent. One that I have never sniffed before, but somehow felt strangely connected. It reminded me of both momma and papa (later on I learned that my get-what-he-wants brother had been swaddled in it).

Smelling that shirt sure made me miss my pack leader parents. Just as the scent started to dissipate in walked both of them and lingering along side was that new familiar smell in an odd little box with handles. Oh, what could it be? Then as my snout slowly sniffled up next to reveal the senses true delights, I saw for the first time my new baby brother. I felt a sudden charge of my Pomeranian wits that told me my family pack would never be the same.

Oh and guess who's holding me telling me everything is all right...