My Puppy Days

My birth mother was sort of crabby because she was forced to have too many litters. I didn’t know this when I was a puppy, but as I grew up, I began to understand how hard her life was. She had lots of puppies and every single one of them was sold. And then she started the process again. And again. How many times do you see your babies taken from you before you get depressed and perpetually grouchy?

I was a big boy with ears that were almost comical. All the other puppies had normal sized ears for Westies, but for some reason, mine kept growing. Not that I wasn’t cute or loveable, just a bit different. I was the biggest pup of the litter. And when all the others were sold, the owners were stuck with me.

Bob was a friend of the breeder’s son and made a deal to do some landscaping in lieu of payment for me. So, I was a trade. I was about twelve weeks old when Bob brought me home to Lynn with a red bow around my neck. For a short time, things seemed okay. But within a week, Bob was yelling, and I was scared. I would hide under the bed and sometimes would grab a sock and chew it up to shreds. I got in plenty of trouble for that.

I learned to hold my toilet because Lynn would forget to take me out and if I peed in the house Bob would freak out. Messes were simply not allowed. They got one of those crates and stuffed me in it, on occasion and I hated it so much that I would whine and bark until I was set free. My early days were not very happy because I was spooked by all the noise and chaos. I tried to get close to Lynn, but she had other things happening. She was getting fat, and her belly was bulging, and I knew what that meant.

I was about a year old when Lynn had her baby. She was screaming in pain one minute and then Bob took her away and she came back with a really small bundle. I could smell right away that it was alive and I wanted to see it. When Lynn placed the baby on the sofa I jumped up to check out the baby and Lynn slapped me hard in the face. I ran off into the bedroom. I never wanted to ever come out.

Ace also joined the family about the same time that the baby came home. Ace didn’t seem to notice or even be curious about the little, noisy human. He just ignored everything. I wanted to be more like Ace because he was an older dog (another trade with Bob for work from someone who didn’t want Ace any longer) and I thought maybe I could learn how to be chill like him. But I soon learned that Ace just was sad and unhappy. Like me. Like everyone in this house.

We were a miserable bunch and most of the sadness was self-inflicted by humans. Bob was a hot head and Lynn would yell, cry and scream often. The little human just cried. Ace became like a growling robot, and I learned how to snap (bite) hard if the humans kicked, or swatted me. Mostly, this was Bob when he was drinking from the bottle of poison. But Lynn also grabbed my ears and twisted them sometimes when she thought I was pestering her. Well, I was hungry!

If I learned anything as a puppy, it was to dream of an escape.