Hi, my name is Nova Saki. My new mommy said I should say hi to both her readers. She says the doggie my new family loved before me, whose name was Bella Moosie da Dawg, used to sometimes say hi to Mommy’s readers, so she said I should introduce myself, too. (I don’t know what a “reader” is, but they seem to matter to Mommy, so I will do my best.)
Mommy says Bella Moosie da Dawg crossed the Rainbow Bridge in November (is November a place? Is that where the Rainbow Bridge is?) and won’t be coming back, so now I am living here. It was nice of her to leave so I could have a home, but I think my new “hoomans” still miss her. I will try to fill up the hole she left in their hearts.
I used to have other hoomans, but they kept bringing me back to the cage place. They said I needed too much attention, so I couldn’t live with them anymore. I don’t understand — how could anyone get too much attention?
Anyway, every time I thought I had found another hooman to love, I ended up back in the cage place, which hoomans call the animal shelter. They were very kind to me there, and loved on me all they could — but there were a lot of other doggies and kitties there (I don’t like kitties!) and I was dreadfully lonely.
Besides, I had to sleep in a cage on a hard floor, and sometimes go out in the cold in another cage, and there was no one to snuggle with. I wasn’t very happy, but I tried not to let the nice hoomans know that. They were doing everything they could.
My favorite time of the day was walkies. One of the friendly hoomans at the shelter would come to my cage and put a leash around my neck, and then I would get to go for walkies up near the woods!
It was great fun! There were all sorts of new sniffs, and squirrellies (although I wasn’t allowed to chase them) and I got to work off some of my crazies. It’s hard for me to stay in one place for so long, and I love to run! The walkies never lasted long enough, but they were the best!
One day I was on a walkies when I saw a lady standing in front of the shelter. She was watching her other hoomans walk another doggie up the hill to the woods.
I decided she looked friendly, so I went up to say hi. She petted me and petted me, and it was better even than walkies, so I stuck around to collect up all the petting I could get!
She called to her other hoomans and said, “Let’s try this one! She’s so sweet!” (How could she know that? She hadn’t even licked me yet!)
Anyway, her other hoomans brought the other dog back and they came to take me for a walkie. It was so much fun — but what I liked even better was all the snuggling they gave me on the way!
I said, inside my head, “Pick me! Pick me! I already love you!” and I tried to tell them as well as I could, with lickies and jumpies and barkies, over and over again!
They seemed to understand. They all said, “Yes, Saki is the one! We want her!” and I got so excited!
But wait — what if these hoomans were like the other ones — they might take me to a new home for a few days, and then just when I was beginning to feel safe, they might bring me back to the cage place again because I wanted too much lovies! Should I act like I didn’t care — would they keep me then?
But I couldn’t help it! I wanted to go home with these hoomans, so bad! I snuggled and whined and licked and did everything I could to say, “I have just met you, and now I love you!”
And I thought it worked! They took me into the cage building and did some things with papers (not what dogs usually do with papers!) and petted me and petted me … and then they left! It broke my heart! The nice people at the shelter said to them, “We will let you know in a few days, but there is another application for Saki, so we can’t promise you will get her.”
I was scared and disappointed. They put me back in the cage, and the hoomans left! I thought I would never, ever see them again. I put my tail between my legs and lay down to cry. Nothing mattered anymore …
But then a miracle happened! It seemed like a long time, but it was that same afternoon — those hoomans came back and took me home with them! They seemed so surprised! I heard them say, “We thought we would have to wait for days!” — but the people at the shelter said, “We knew right away that you were the family for Saki.” So they took me home with them, and now I don’t have to be in a cage anymore!
I sleep on a sofa cuddled up against one of the hoomans every night, and there is always a hooman with me. I have two new brothers, and a new mommy and daddy, and I get lots of snuggling and petting! I have my own bed, too, when I want to sleep in it, and I have chew toys and treats, and warm, soft places to lie down. And my new mommy says my new daddy is a “sap” because he is always sneaking me things to eat when mommy can’t see! (I guess she knows anyway, but she just smiles …)
And walkies?! Holy cow! I get three or four a day, and sometimes they are very long walkies, because mommy says she is trying to “lose weight” and needs “exercise.” Whatever. I just love to go with her. There is also something called a “doggie door” which lets me go out into a fenced-in yard all day and all night — so I can chase the squirrellies and go potty whenever I want. It took me a while to figure out how to use it, without one of my hoomans holding the “flap” open for me — I thought the flap might be actively hostile — but now I go tearing out every time I see a squirrelly. Mommy says that’s what Bella Moosie da Dawg used to do, too, so I am in good company.
I know my new hoomans still miss Bella sometimes, but Mommy says “Nova Saki” means “new hope” and that is a good sign. Every time one of my new hoomans sits down near me I crawl into their lap and say, “Don’t worry! I am here now, and I love you!” and I think it cheers them up. They say they love me, and that I will never have to go back to the cage place ever again — so I couldn’t be happier! They say I am a smart doggie, too, so maybe they will keep me with them always, and I will finally have a forever home. I hope so. I love them very much.
And besides, the food here is great!
Ellen McDaniel-Weissler is a LaVale freelance writer whose column appears on alternate weekends.