Why I Am Called the Velcro Puppy

Bet you are just dying to know why I am called the Velcro Puppy. Doesn't sound very terrier-like does it? But then I am not your typical terrier. I don't bark a lot, I don't act like a Mexican jumping bean, and I am happiest just chillin on my sofa. (Yes, it is my sofa. My mom gave it to me. It has my pillow, my fuzzy pad, and today it has my blankie on it too). I am currently laying on it as I dictate my thoughts to mom so she can type them.

But I am off on a bit of a rabbit trail. Boo, wish I hadn't said that. Now I'm thinking about Thumper. Where was I? Oh yeah, Velcro. Well you see, my mom has had a hard time of it the past few years. My dad is working and living in New Mexico and the pest (tell you later about her), is busy with doing whatever pests do. So I "stick" to my mom. If she goes upstairs, I go upstairs, if she goes to the kitchen, I go to the kitchen. You get the idea. I am never very far from her. And if she is within lap distance or feet distance, that's where I am. Sleeping is the best time cause I can snuggle right up against her on her bed.

I have really been close to her since her first surgery and she was sleeping downstairs. I let her use my sofa of course, but I was right there with her. Then she had two other surgeries, she slept in the recliner then, but I was in the one next to her. I knew she had a boo-boo so I wanted to be sure I was there in case she needed me. I smell boo-boos a mile away. I try to lick them to heal them quicker. I have a healing tongue you know. Mom doesn't always think it is a good idea for me to lick some things, but sometimes I just can't help it. I get all quivery when I know someone has a boo-boo.

When she leaves the house, if she doesn't tell me why I can't go, I sit at the door and howl. Usually I get to go. I love to go for car rides. It's been so hot though, I can't always go. I'm bummed about that.


So now you know why I am the Velcro puppy.

Til next time, keep waggin'.

Spike

My First Entry 6/9/08

Every man, I mean dog, needs to have a voice. We have feelings, we have opinions. So I thought to myself, I need a blog. Only one small problem. I don't have thumbs and I can't type. What to do, what to do. Then it hit me. Mom! She has thumbs and can type too. Quite a multi-tasker my mom is. So I put on my best cute doggie face and here we are.

Let's see, where to start.

Well, I guess I could give you a little history about me. I only go back nine years, so it shouldn't take too long.

I was born March 26, 1999 in Aiken, South Carolina. I was one of six brothers and sisters. I think all of them except one died from a nasty fungus infection. I had it too, but my mom worked hard and took good care of me and now I am fine. Well, not quite I guess cause I have a hard time hearing out of one ear. The fungus was on my foot, but got in my ears when I scratched 'em.

My doggie dad is still around, but my doggie mom died in a fire. It was very sad. Her name was Jasmine.

When I was 10 weeks old, I came to live with my mom in Georgia. I have a human mom, dad and a pesty sister (more on her later). I had a pet rabbit named Thumper, but she died a few years ago. I didn't know that rabbits don't live as long as dogs. It was a real bummer, cause we were buddies. I'll tell you that story later too, so keep checking back.

I guess that's pretty much it for today. I'll try to get some puppy pics up soon.

Spike