Was I coming or going? I wasn’t sure. I knew there were lots of conversations after I had arrived.
Mummy wasn’t sure about me. She was only fostering me but instead she found herself having to face life-changing decisions.
You see she wanted to rescue her second dog but she wanted a girl and preferably white. Because she already had a name for it – “Khaleesi” after the very platinum blonde character on “The Game of Thrones”. And I looked like a black rat.So you can see why she was in a dilemma. She loves that name and she would have a dog just to call it that! Does that mean she will have three dogs if she keeps me? Is it going to be me or “Khaleesi”?
I could tell Mummy was really torn. I did suddenly appear in her life out of nowhere and she didn’t know anything about me.
But her heart knew that if she decided to give me up for a namesake – she will always be thinking of me and wondered if she had done the right thing.
Her pragmatic self went into action to make a checklist of things she needed to consider. Well, of course there was Miss Darcy – her pride and joy – whose position I intend to usurp! LOL! She had to be sure Miss D will ok. Strangely Darcy just let me be. We didn’t tear each other to shreds. I was ok to sit in the same room with everyone.I know Darcy wasn’t completely thrilled to have me in her home entirely but she knew there was a mission of some sort going on. OK. That was that.
Mummy then thought – if she had outright practical reasons that told her that she cannot keep me then she knew it was beyond her control. As it turned out every obstacle she could think of fell by the wayside and she was left with the hardest decision – did she want me?
You know how Mummy is – she can talk for hours with friends about everything. And one of them said to her – “Life is short. Don’t over think it. If you can do it, why not? You are giving this little dog a chance.”
That was all it took. To be exact – a whole week!!!! Which was timed nicely with George Clooney’s wedding – to celebrate his end of bachelorhood and I am now the “George” in her life.
Oh, yes, there were days when I would annoy Mummy and many a time she still wondered if she had done the right thing. I know by now that any discussion is just academic. 😉
I am very pragmatic myself. I get handed off to various people – people who loves me and whom Mummy trusts. I don’t mind. As long as someone loves me, takes care of me, feed me – I can go anywhere.
I have a new life and the past year had been a lot of learning to live by the rules of the human world in a big city called London. I am still learning a lot about living in a city. I have overcome my fear of buses and big trucks. I have learnt to go up slippery glass staircases. But it still surprises Mummy when I would stop short of doing something – because of the unknown. I still don’t like sudden change of floor surfaces but now I know I can do it!They named me “Bobo” when they picked me up at the Killing Station but Mummy decided I needed a more English/Chelsea name to go along with my sister’s. 🙂 She didn’t think Darcy and Bobo went well together. LOL!
I still had streaks of my old self after I arrived which did not go down well in our environment. You see I had to fend for myself, fight for my food and the only way I got food was from humans who took pity on a little black dog scavenging on the streets. So after I got here, I didn’t know that I needed no longer do that. So you know how old habits never die – I would be aggressive to ward off Darcy whenever there was food involved or when humans came to our home and gave her any attention. My poor sister, she was at first so shocked by my behaviour that she walked away with her head hanging. After a couple of times, she learnt my ways and started to fight me back – so thus the great uproar. Mummy was not happy and along came Vanessa who told me off and showed me I could not behave so badly. Eventually I learnt that I get fed in time and I am never starving – that’s what Mummy thinks but I can always have more.
I have a bed, several beds, in fact. Our favourite being Mummy’s bed which we share.I have made a lot of friends everywhere I’ve been. All the U.K. doggies have no problem with me as an immigrant and even though no one knows what I am really am – they see no difference. Some DNA tests said I’m 100% pedigree Yorkshire terrier!!!! But when they learnt where I came from and looked at my photo, they withdrew their conclusions! Mummy sensibly thinks that there must be a lot Yorkshire Terrier in me to show up in the tests. And she would love it if I’m a Yorkie-poo but at least she can say I am a Yorkie-poo-poo.
I have now finished telling my story on how I ended up where I did – I think this is going to be my last post for a while – don’t want to take advantage of the situation while Darcy’s away to bombard her blog. But she’s so busy running with the big boys and loving her Humphrey so much – she’s not really minding. Actually she probably gets tired of wiring everyday so she’s taking a break.