From Charlie

Hi. I'm Charlie. The lady who writes this blog is my mom. She feels better after she tells everyone how she feels about stuff, so I decided I should try it.
Over a year ago, my mom and dad came to the shelter and picked me up. It was the best. We went on walks together, went hiking together, and played laser tag together (that's my favorite).

My best friends Cassius and Kipi lived upstairs and we used to run around barking and boxing all day. Sometimes we all slept on the couch together and we always left room. I loved sharing my toys with them. I ate when I felt like it and relaxed on all my dog beds (I had 3).

Then one day my mom and dad asked these guys I didn't like to come take all of our stuff. I only have 3 bones and 2 kongs, so I figured they just wanted to live simpler. That night we slept on the floor together, which was kind of fun. But the next morning we got up much earlier than I'd of liked and took a road trip.

Now, don't get me wrong. The road trip was awesome. I loved hanging my head out the window and meeting new people. But when we finally stopped, things were not the way I wanted.

My mom and dad moved all our stuff into this new house. Cassius and Kipi were not upstairs. In fact, no one was. I just sat around all day. Sometimes we went on walks, but usually I just went outside in the back yard. I just sat and talked to my mom all day (and she would tell me to stop whining, but I wasn't whining, I was trying to tell her I missed home). My dad came home and played with me, but it wasn't the same.
Then the worst thing you could ever imagine happened next. I was already lonely and sad, but at least I still had my dignity. Mom and Dad brought home Bella. What's a Bella you ask? They told me it's a sister, but it isn't. It's a dog, smaller than you, that never shuts up. It bites your feet and tries to steal your cookies and jumps on your face when you are sleeping.

I used to eat my food when I felt like it and now I have to eat it so fast that I get the poots because I don't want her getting any of it. Whatever bed I'm sleeping on, that's where she wants to sleep. Even if I'm on the big couch, she puts her head way too close to mine. If I want to go outside, she goes outside. If I lay on mom's lap, she lays on mom's lap. Nothing is sacred anymore. And now everytime she has to go to the dog doctor, I have to go because my mom says it makes her feel "safer." Twice the doggie doctor visits is not my idea of a "sister."

When my mom's not looking, I try to get rid of her. One night I helped her chew out of her collar in the car so she might run away when Mom opened the door, but she didn't. Another time I pushed the back door open to set her free, but I forgot about the fence doors being closed. It seems there's just no getting rid of her.
So that's why I'm writing on here. If anyone out there is interested in a cute, cuddly, not-annoying, very docile sister named Bella, please come to our house. I'll even throw in all the cookies. Just take her. I'm exhausted.



Sincerely,
Charlie