From Homeless to Fabulous /or Never Going Back

JEFF

Yea, I don't forgive you Winter, look what the fuck you did to my nose. 

 

 

 

 

 

So when Mom adopted me from Lost Angels Animal Rescue, 6 years ago (42 for my dog readers) she totally made an ass out of me. She picked me up and immediately put me in this stupid muscle-man costume and took photographs.I don't even know why she had this costume with her or how she passed the adoption screening. She probably lied to them like she lied to me. She lied to me and said I would never find myself in someplace as horrible as the pound again. False story.

Right after meeting my Mother she took me home to live in her condo with her roomate, the idiot from hell. I am not sure how this girl even figured out breathing. I think sometimes I caught her taking a few steps, stopping, and then huffing and puffing because she couldn't do both at the same time.See, Mom was working at Hooters (she said it was some sort of fine dining establishment) at the time and that's where she picked up that miscreant. I knew from the moment that girl baby-talked at me things weren't going to end well. I spent my days mostly avoiding everyone by living underneath my mom's or Becky's*  bed. It isn't my fault that Becky kept her used bras and panties under the bed and that I happen to be a connoisseur. That is the one thing I am sort of guilty of. Taking the panties and relocating them. Other things of which I have been accused have no bearing in truth. I got caught under Becky's bed during some embarrassing times. When her boyfriend, Jay-Jay-The-Gangsta came over (Ma says she will tell you more about him another time), that was always a particular treat for me. Hey, I am not pervert, but at what time is a good time to slink away and not look guilty, embarrassed, or add the the awkwardness that everyone should be feeling in that situation? You tell me if you figure it out, ok? So things took a turn for the worse. This Becky was 6 feet of legs, it is of no surprise she was a clutz and had no room for a brain. When she knocked the door of the Dishwasher off the hinges? She claimed "Chewey" she had been hanging out in the kitchen a lot. Oh yeah, that was another thing, she decided my name was Chewey.  Oh yeah, I am 10 pounds, so even if I had a running start from the next room ...that dishwasher...I couldn't-- oh forget it I have pleaded my case on this one enough. When CapriSun appeared all over the walls of the living room with no obvious reason? Chewey is always getting in to my stuff. When the glass door of her shower was found shattered? Chewey hangs out in my bathroom a lot, I don;t know what he does in there. Yeah. All of her stories were very believable. If I was capable of this sort of destruction, I would have a much firmer grasp on the direction of my own life and wouldn't waste this talent on stupid small appliances. Mom saw through her stories eventually and told her we were not renewing our portion of the leash. Numnuts donned her best bewildered look and asked well what was going to happen with Chewey then? Where was he going to live?


Really?

Notice my humiliation. I didn't pick this outfit.

We were out of there. I was actually proud of Mom for finally moving in the right direction. It looked like she was making good on the promise she made me about getting out of the pound lifestyle.

Wait a minute. We are going to live with who? My future Step-Dad? Yeah, he's alright. I am a little sick of him always "trying to make a man of me" but overall, I don't see him blaming me for shit I am not even capable of, and I don't think he even knows Jay-Jay, so things are looking ok....but does he still have that giant living with him?

You're kidding, I have to live with this?

But I adapted, because after all that is what we pound puppies do. I life wasn't so bad. I even accepted that giant tree sloth as my Sister/Lover. And just as I was getting comfortable, mom sprung another one on me.

 

Then, what do you know? Downhill again. We are moving where now? Russia? Ha ha? Do they have my special Chow there? You know I am allergic to Beef. 

So as I realized again that I have very little control over my life, we moved to Moscow. Since moving here, I discovered we now have a platform bed, so my favorite spot has been eliminated, I have been chased by Ferrel street  dogs, told by the grumpy maintenance man that I can not pee on the grass, told by our first housekeeper that I needed to wear a muzzle, and then ended up with a condition called "snow nose". But really, and don't tell mom because I will loose my manipulation bargaining chip, it hasn't been so bad here. On the upsides, The Big Beast Abby hates it here worse than me, and our new housekeeper is teaching my Fillipino. Also Pigeons>Squirrels.

I am a dirty pig. I taught Abby a cool trick, it's called "Sit and be molested"