Annie’s Story
From homeless to adoption!
Hello my name is Annie. I am named after orphan Annie. I was an orphan when I came to live with my
humans. I am an adorable little doggie of unknown origin. I used to be Buffy before I became
Annie. Before being Buffy I lived on the
street. When I become Buffy at the
humane shelter I weighed 7 pounds. No one is sure how I survived the street
because I am small. I am the only one
that knows my true story. My humans have
to use their imagination. They have
great imaginations.
My Mom imagines I was a princess when I lived on the
street. I know this because she dresses
me in cute little pink sweaters when it is cold. She takes me to the spa where they do my hair
and nails. She has my tail groomed just
so, long and beautiful. She gives me baths and holds me in her lap to dry me
with a fluffy towel. I have a special
blanket that is very soft. I have soft
pillows to sleep on. I like to layer my
pillows and Mom is always talking about the fairy tale about a princess and a
pea. I do not know this story. It is a tough job protecting all my pillows
because I have a big brother that wants to play with them. I will tell you all about my brother Sigmund
in my story. Then again Sigmund might
tell you his own story. I am sure he
will say nice things about me.
My Dad imagines I was a tiger when I lived on the
street. I know this because he thinks I
have fangs and claws when it comes to food.
I do enjoy food, lots of it and most varieties. I love green beans and
crunchy raw carrots but not greens. Meat is my top choice. My favorite meal would be meat, rice, and
green beans mixed together. I like to
sit beside Dad when he eats. He gives me little treats. Sometimes I stand up
and put my little paws on his ankle to remind him I am there. I also believe in having a little food put
aside for hard times. I have a little food
buried under the sofa cushions, under my pillows, in my Mom’s closet, under the
bed etc.
When I lived on the street
there was this large mean grey striped cat with fangs and teeth. The cat was always taking my worms from me
that I dug up to eat. I had to learn to
fight back. The tiger scratched and bit
me. Life was not easy.
I imagined myself as a rat when I lived on the
street. If you look in a picture book at
a rat you are looking at me. My tail had
no hair. What hair I had on my body was
tangled and matted and stuck to my skin. A lot of my hair was missing. I had sores.
Mom would later discover my two baby front teeth had not come out and my
big girl teeth grew in behind them. The
baby ones rotted right up to my gum and became infected. My face hurt all the
time. I just screamed if someone touched
me on the face. I was very afraid. I hid as much as I could in boxes, behind
trash dumpsters, under old cars, any good hiding place would do. I was wet, cold, nasty, smelled bad, starved,
and digging for worms. I could catch a
fly or bee in flight. I was so
hungry. Yes, I was a rat. You could see my ribs. Life was not looking
good.
I did have a big dog friend on the street. I do not know what happened to him. He was tall. He could stand on his hind legs
and pull delicious food from the dumpsters.
He was also starved but he would still drop little pieces of bread and
fries for me. I would have starved if he
had not helped me with food. Sometimes
there would be a small scrap of meat. I
do not understand people wasting all that beautiful food.
Then one day a family
saw me on food alert behind the dumpster. They started bringing leftovers and tossed
them to me. There would always be a
small piece of meat. I gobbled it down
so fast to keep the tiger from getting it.
The family always waited for me to eat before they left. One day they put a plastic box with a hole
cut in the side and a soft blanket in it behind the dumpster. I was full, warm, and dry that night. I did not realize they were being kind to me
so they could capture me. I will never
forget them. They saved my life.
I was so scared the day I was captured. When I took the piece of meat from the human’s
kind hands they grabbed me. I twisted and turned and cried out for help. They would not let me go. They stuck me into a cage and put it in the
back of their car! Tears ran down my
face. I tried to disappear into a small
ball in the corner of the cage. I tried
to be invisible. We pulled up to this
building and they got me out and took me inside.
I just lay down and trembled and cried. Other hands picked me up and took me to
another cage in the back room. They
spoke kind words to me and were gentle but I was so afraid. Then they put me in this tub of water. It was nice and warm and soapy. They talked to me and gently rubbed me. I started showing them sore spots that needed
attention. They wrapped me in a big
fluffy towel and held me close. They
used warm air to dry me. Then out came
the scissors, I started crying. They
held me close and told me it was ok.
They cut off all my hair mats.
When they finished I was almost naked.
Then they put some medicine on my sores.
They took me to another cage where I had my very own blanket, food, and
water. They named me Buffy.
After a couple of days, I was beginning to feel much
better about life. I had plenty to eat,
was given medicine, was warm, and was loved and cuddled from time to time. I was taken to a doctor and had my little
girl surgery. Then my caretakers came
and got me and carried me outside to meet some humans. I was so scared! What was happening! I wanted my warm safe space back.
The humans had a big dog. They seemed to like me even if I did look
like a rat with sore spots. They picked
me up and put me in the car with the big dog.
I was not afraid of my big
brother when I met him. I could tell he
was a sweet kind gentle giant that would share his food with me. His name was Sigmund, a golden retriever. He
weighed 75 pounds. I weighed 7 pounds.
He is named after a famous therapist Sigmund Freud. Dogs make great therapist.
I found out the humans were fostering me for 14
days, now going on three years. When I
arrived at my temporary home I decided I was going to live here on a permanent
basis. I immediately put my plan into
action and started calling the humans Mom and Dad like Big Brother did. It did not take me long to establish which
pillow was mine, what couch I was going to guard, and possession of food bowl
(food being very important). My name was
a problem. Mom did not think I was a
Buffy. I do not remember what my name
was when I became homeless. Since I was an orphan she wanted to call me Annie
after Orphan Annie. I liked this name
very much and went with it - a new name meant a new home. Life was looking good!
It was time to explore my big fenced in yard. I discovered Big Brother and I had plenty of
room to run and play. I could run circles
as much as I wanted. I noticed a big
green worms head sticking up out of the ground. I had that great food morsel
dug up and in my mouth in no time. I
turned my head and ate it before Mom could get it out of my mouth. I had eaten them before. They kept you from starving. Mom tried to explain to me that I did not
have to eat worms that I would have food.
I don’t eat worms anymore as chicken cooked to perfection is much
tastier. Mom was most surprised the day
she had me in her arms giving me hugs when this bee flew right at her and I
snatched it out of the air and ate it. I
knew I did not have to eat the bee. It
could have hurt Mom so I was taking care of her. I love my humans. They are so good to me.
I have found that my name Annie has morphed into a
couple of nicknames. I am Annie Oakley
when I find it necessary to take control of a situation such as barking a
warning or maintaining possession of my stuff when Big Brother walks by. I think Annie Oakley was famous for being a
crack shot and I am too. I know this
because I can grab bees out of the air. I
am also Annie Oakley when I am taking things that are mine from Big
Brother. The way I have it figured I had
nothing so now everything is mine. He
gets a toy, a pillow, a blanket, a treat, or just anything I think I need and I
take it from him. I tell him, “It is
mine, mine, all mine, give it to me.” I
do not like to share. He does.
My other nickname is for when I am irresistible,
which is most of the time is Annie
Bella. This makes me think of a proper
lady dressed in a long flowing pink silk dress with flowers on it wearing a lace hat with feathers.
Now that my hair has grown out and I get beautified I am the belle of the
ball. You would never have thought that
anyone could be so beautiful that was so ugly.
My Mom has trained my groomers to let my tail grow out like a pompom. I also
know how to strut. When we are taking
our walks, I wear my cute little pink harness.
My little legs are going so fast that I look like I am floating on
air. I proudly hold my head like I am wearing a hat. My tail is just beautiful
and flowy. I hold it high and let all my
beautiful hair flow in the wind. I am a
sight to behold. Big Brother just walks
like a dog. He wants to sniff and leave
his scent on everything. I have to help
him with his projects.
My big
brother imagines me as a warning alarm. You see I am very smart and as a street survivor have great instincts. I realized
right off that it was going to be necessary for me to alert everyone to
approaching danger. There are squirrels,
birds, rabbits, cats, other dogs, coyotes, snakes, turtles, and even other
humans. Notification is needed so
everyone can be on alert! I do this
with a high pitched ear popping bark. I
was very quiet when I lived on the street.
I did not want to call attention to myself. I was little and the world was big and scary.
I also consider it my job to alert Big Brother when
our parents get home. I do not think he
hears as good as I do. Sometimes he is
asleep when they drive up. I firmly
believe our parents should be greeted at the door by their family with barks
and love. Therefore, I always go find
Big Brother and wake him up with my ear popping alert and get him to the
door. When the door opens we are
ready. I am barking and he is being all
sweet. Big Brother always gets the first
hug because he is taller and he was the first dog. I then get picked up and kissed and held and
get my stomach scratched and you get the picture.
Have I told you about my love of peanut butter? I love peanut butter. It tastes so good. I really enjoy it on a little piece of
cracker. However, there is a problem
with peanut butter that I do not understand.
It sticks to the roof of my mouth.
I have to lick and lick and lick the roof of my mouth with my cute
little pink tongue to remove that delicious butter so I can be prepared for the
next bite. Mom always waits until I am
ready for the next delicious morsel. Mom says my story is never going to make to
the blog if I keep writing so I have agreed to share this and maybe write more another
day.
Yours,
Annie Bella
