| General Non-Fiction posted February 26, 2015 |
  |
A story about love
All About My Mamma
by boxergirl
A Pet's View: My Owner Revealed Contest Winner
First of all, I know the dude that be runnin' this contest said my mamma ain't gonna read this, but, you know, just to cover my assets, I wanna make something perfectly clear--I love my mamma! She not perfect, but, you know, she good. Yeah, she be trained real good.
Anyways, this all started, you know, oh...'bout ten years ago. I remember it well. I was just a wee little pup, probably 'bout two months old. Me and my homies, you know, my brother and two sisters, was pretty much dumped on da side of da road by some rat-bastard who left us in the middle of God-knows-where to fend for ourself, and I gotta say, honestly, we was scared to death. We stayed huddled up in that old raggedy box all through the night, just knowing we was all gonna end up being buzzard bait if the good Lord didn't do something real soon.
Sho-nuff, at the break of dawn, we heard something sounded like an old pick-up rattlin' down the road and come to a sudden stop. We couldn't see out da box, but we heard the door slam and footsteps getting closer and closer. We was too afraid to move and didn't make nary a sound. We didn't know if this be an angel or da devil. Then, much to our relief, da kindest set of eyes stared down at us and started talkin' baby talk 'bout how cute we was and everything. I still remember barking, "Thank ya, Jesus!"
Next thing happened, after loading us in da cab of her truck two by two, she drove us to a place called the Humane Society. The reason I know it be called that is because, you know, she'd been talkin' to us da whole way there. She told us not to be afraid and not to be worried none. I mean her voice was like, you know, smooth as honey. It was so soothin'; we all fell fast asleep right there in the front seat!
When the truck finally stopped, I woke up and found we was all snuggled right up there next to the angel driver. I stepped up on her leg and laid my head against her soft tummy. She patted my head real soft like and sat me beside my brother; then she picked up my two sisters and got out of da truck. My brother and I leaned on da door and looked out da window, wondering where she be takin' 'em. In just a little bit, she came and got my brother. I have to tell ya, at this point, you know, I wasn't too happy, and I be like barking, "What's goin' on here?"
The sweet angel finally came back and hopped in da cab of the truck. She picked me up and held me right up to her face, you know like, nose to nose, and said, "Don't you be worried one bit, little feller. Mamma's gonna take good care of you, and I promise I'll make sure your brother and sisters find a good home as well."
I gotta say, looking into her sweet blue eyes and hearing her silky smooth voice, my heart just melted right then and there. I never felt so loved. I'd been rescued by an angel, and her name was "Mamma!"
So, yeah, that was da real beginning, you know, for the two of us. Mamma said I was some kinda boxer-mix puppy and named me Mr. Bojangles, but she said she might call me Bo for short. Good thing, 'cause if she'd ever called me Mr. Bojangles in front of my friends at the park, I'd dug myself a big hole and crawled right in. Yeah, Bo, sounded way more better, so I agreed to go by it.
So Mamma and me, we been together something like ten years now. Feels a lot longer to me, cause you know, dog years ain't the same as people years. We've had our ups and downs, mostly ups, I'd say. Like I said, I trained her pretty good.
Just for example, when she feed me my first cup of dog food in the morning, I eat that right up and then just sit there, staring back and forth between her and my empty bowl, you know, looking real sad like. Sure enough, she'll get right up, even if she ain't through with her breakfast, and get me some more. Ha! It works every time. And when I really wanna get her goat, I'll play dis game: She'll put my food bowl down, and I just sniff it a little, then I circle it a few times, sniff it again, and then I'll sit back and bark at it. Mamma says, "Bo Bo"--she calls me that sometimes--"eat your breakfast!" That's when I start my whining. And oh how she do hate that whine, mainly 'cause she can't figure out what the heck I'm whinin' about. Exasperated--I know that's a big word for me, but I've heard her say it many times--she'll finally get up and scoot the bowl over to the left or right, just a pinch, and then sit back down. I try to hide my giddiness, mosey on up to the bowl and eat my food. She be looking at me, just shakin' her head, and I be like waggin' my tail ninety-to-nothin' and lovin' it.
What else do I have her do? Well, sometimes when she be on her laptop--and she do be on her laptop, I'll go right up to her recliner, sit there and just, you know, stare at her. After pretending she don't see me, she'll look up and tell me, "Not now, Bo, Mamma's busy." Then I just slowly scooch back a few feet and start my little whine routine. Ha! Gets her every time. She looks into my poor pitiful dark brown eyes, and I can see she be feeling guilty--hee, hee--'cause she'll set her computer over to the side and invite me to sit in her lap--well, at least half of me. Did I tell you I weigh seventy-five pounds? I place my big front paws up in her lap, and we get nose to nose just like when I was little, and then she like leans over, puts her arms around my neck and gives me a big long hug. We stay like that for a bit--til I get bored--and then I wiggle away and go take me another nap. Mission accomplished.
Since she be so nice to me, you know, most of da time, I usually share my couch space with her in the evening. When she finishes doing her doings and wants to watch some T.V., she'll come and ask me to scoot over, you know, so she can lay down, too. I pretend to be aggravated and take my time, but to tell the truth, I kinda like this nighttime routine. Besides, if I get tired of it and want my space, I just pass a little gas, and she be like jumpin' up and hollerin' at me. My ears perk up, and I look at her like, "What?" I mean, it's not like her toot toots smell like roses or somethin'.
I guess you can see by now that I could go on and on about life with Mamma, but I think you get the idea. She been good for me, and, I been, you know, good for her--at least that's what she be tellin' me every single day for the last ten years!
First of all, I know the dude that be runnin' this contest said my mamma ain't gonna read this, but, you know, just to cover my assets, I wanna make something perfectly clear--I love my mamma! She not perfect, but, you know, she good. Yeah, she be trained real good.
Anyways, this all started, you know, oh...'bout ten years ago. I remember it well. I was just a wee little pup, probably 'bout two months old. Me and my homies, you know, my brother and two sisters, was pretty much dumped on da side of da road by some rat-bastard who left us in the middle of God-knows-where to fend for ourself, and I gotta say, honestly, we was scared to death. We stayed huddled up in that old raggedy box all through the night, just knowing we was all gonna end up being buzzard bait if the good Lord didn't do something real soon.
Sho-nuff, at the break of dawn, we heard something sounded like an old pick-up rattlin' down the road and come to a sudden stop. We couldn't see out da box, but we heard the door slam and footsteps getting closer and closer. We was too afraid to move and didn't make nary a sound. We didn't know if this be an angel or da devil. Then, much to our relief, da kindest set of eyes stared down at us and started talkin' baby talk 'bout how cute we was and everything. I still remember barking, "Thank ya, Jesus!"
Next thing happened, after loading us in da cab of her truck two by two, she drove us to a place called the Humane Society. The reason I know it be called that is because, you know, she'd been talkin' to us da whole way there. She told us not to be afraid and not to be worried none. I mean her voice was like, you know, smooth as honey. It was so soothin'; we all fell fast asleep right there in the front seat!
When the truck finally stopped, I woke up and found we was all snuggled right up there next to the angel driver. I stepped up on her leg and laid my head against her soft tummy. She patted my head real soft like and sat me beside my brother; then she picked up my two sisters and got out of da truck. My brother and I leaned on da door and looked out da window, wondering where she be takin' 'em. In just a little bit, she came and got my brother. I have to tell ya, at this point, you know, I wasn't too happy, and I be like barking, "What's goin' on here?"
The sweet angel finally came back and hopped in da cab of the truck. She picked me up and held me right up to her face, you know like, nose to nose, and said, "Don't you be worried one bit, little feller. Mamma's gonna take good care of you, and I promise I'll make sure your brother and sisters find a good home as well."
I gotta say, looking into her sweet blue eyes and hearing her silky smooth voice, my heart just melted right then and there. I never felt so loved. I'd been rescued by an angel, and her name was "Mamma!"
So, yeah, that was da real beginning, you know, for the two of us. Mamma said I was some kinda boxer-mix puppy and named me Mr. Bojangles, but she said she might call me Bo for short. Good thing, 'cause if she'd ever called me Mr. Bojangles in front of my friends at the park, I'd dug myself a big hole and crawled right in. Yeah, Bo, sounded way more better, so I agreed to go by it.
So Mamma and me, we been together something like ten years now. Feels a lot longer to me, cause you know, dog years ain't the same as people years. We've had our ups and downs, mostly ups, I'd say. Like I said, I trained her pretty good.
Just for example, when she feed me my first cup of dog food in the morning, I eat that right up and then just sit there, staring back and forth between her and my empty bowl, you know, looking real sad like. Sure enough, she'll get right up, even if she ain't through with her breakfast, and get me some more. Ha! It works every time. And when I really wanna get her goat, I'll play dis game: She'll put my food bowl down, and I just sniff it a little, then I circle it a few times, sniff it again, and then I'll sit back and bark at it. Mamma says, "Bo Bo"--she calls me that sometimes--"eat your breakfast!" That's when I start my whining. And oh how she do hate that whine, mainly 'cause she can't figure out what the heck I'm whinin' about. Exasperated--I know that's a big word for me, but I've heard her say it many times--she'll finally get up and scoot the bowl over to the left or right, just a pinch, and then sit back down. I try to hide my giddiness, mosey on up to the bowl and eat my food. She be looking at me, just shakin' her head, and I be like waggin' my tail ninety-to-nothin' and lovin' it.
What else do I have her do? Well, sometimes when she be on her laptop--and she do be on her laptop, I'll go right up to her recliner, sit there and just, you know, stare at her. After pretending she don't see me, she'll look up and tell me, "Not now, Bo, Mamma's busy." Then I just slowly scooch back a few feet and start my little whine routine. Ha! Gets her every time. She looks into my poor pitiful dark brown eyes, and I can see she be feeling guilty--hee, hee--'cause she'll set her computer over to the side and invite me to sit in her lap--well, at least half of me. Did I tell you I weigh seventy-five pounds? I place my big front paws up in her lap, and we get nose to nose just like when I was little, and then she like leans over, puts her arms around my neck and gives me a big long hug. We stay like that for a bit--til I get bored--and then I wiggle away and go take me another nap. Mission accomplished.
Since she be so nice to me, you know, most of da time, I usually share my couch space with her in the evening. When she finishes doing her doings and wants to watch some T.V., she'll come and ask me to scoot over, you know, so she can lay down, too. I pretend to be aggravated and take my time, but to tell the truth, I kinda like this nighttime routine. Besides, if I get tired of it and want my space, I just pass a little gas, and she be like jumpin' up and hollerin' at me. My ears perk up, and I look at her like, "What?" I mean, it's not like her toot toots smell like roses or somethin'.
I guess you can see by now that I could go on and on about life with Mamma, but I think you get the idea. She been good for me, and, I been, you know, good for her--at least that's what she be tellin' me every single day for the last ten years!
Anyways, this all started, you know, oh...'bout ten years ago. I remember it well. I was just a wee little pup, probably 'bout two months old. Me and my homies, you know, my brother and two sisters, was pretty much dumped on da side of da road by some rat-bastard who left us in the middle of God-knows-where to fend for ourself, and I gotta say, honestly, we was scared to death. We stayed huddled up in that old raggedy box all through the night, just knowing we was all gonna end up being buzzard bait if the good Lord didn't do something real soon.
Sho-nuff, at the break of dawn, we heard something sounded like an old pick-up rattlin' down the road and come to a sudden stop. We couldn't see out da box, but we heard the door slam and footsteps getting closer and closer. We was too afraid to move and didn't make nary a sound. We didn't know if this be an angel or da devil. Then, much to our relief, da kindest set of eyes stared down at us and started talkin' baby talk 'bout how cute we was and everything. I still remember barking, "Thank ya, Jesus!"
Next thing happened, after loading us in da cab of her truck two by two, she drove us to a place called the Humane Society. The reason I know it be called that is because, you know, she'd been talkin' to us da whole way there. She told us not to be afraid and not to be worried none. I mean her voice was like, you know, smooth as honey. It was so soothin'; we all fell fast asleep right there in the front seat!
When the truck finally stopped, I woke up and found we was all snuggled right up there next to the angel driver. I stepped up on her leg and laid my head against her soft tummy. She patted my head real soft like and sat me beside my brother; then she picked up my two sisters and got out of da truck. My brother and I leaned on da door and looked out da window, wondering where she be takin' 'em. In just a little bit, she came and got my brother. I have to tell ya, at this point, you know, I wasn't too happy, and I be like barking, "What's goin' on here?"
The sweet angel finally came back and hopped in da cab of the truck. She picked me up and held me right up to her face, you know like, nose to nose, and said, "Don't you be worried one bit, little feller. Mamma's gonna take good care of you, and I promise I'll make sure your brother and sisters find a good home as well."
I gotta say, looking into her sweet blue eyes and hearing her silky smooth voice, my heart just melted right then and there. I never felt so loved. I'd been rescued by an angel, and her name was "Mamma!"
So, yeah, that was da real beginning, you know, for the two of us. Mamma said I was some kinda boxer-mix puppy and named me Mr. Bojangles, but she said she might call me Bo for short. Good thing, 'cause if she'd ever called me Mr. Bojangles in front of my friends at the park, I'd dug myself a big hole and crawled right in. Yeah, Bo, sounded way more better, so I agreed to go by it.
So Mamma and me, we been together something like ten years now. Feels a lot longer to me, cause you know, dog years ain't the same as people years. We've had our ups and downs, mostly ups, I'd say. Like I said, I trained her pretty good.
Just for example, when she feed me my first cup of dog food in the morning, I eat that right up and then just sit there, staring back and forth between her and my empty bowl, you know, looking real sad like. Sure enough, she'll get right up, even if she ain't through with her breakfast, and get me some more. Ha! It works every time. And when I really wanna get her goat, I'll play dis game: She'll put my food bowl down, and I just sniff it a little, then I circle it a few times, sniff it again, and then I'll sit back and bark at it. Mamma says, "Bo Bo"--she calls me that sometimes--"eat your breakfast!" That's when I start my whining. And oh how she do hate that whine, mainly 'cause she can't figure out what the heck I'm whinin' about. Exasperated--I know that's a big word for me, but I've heard her say it many times--she'll finally get up and scoot the bowl over to the left or right, just a pinch, and then sit back down. I try to hide my giddiness, mosey on up to the bowl and eat my food. She be looking at me, just shakin' her head, and I be like waggin' my tail ninety-to-nothin' and lovin' it.
What else do I have her do? Well, sometimes when she be on her laptop--and she do be on her laptop, I'll go right up to her recliner, sit there and just, you know, stare at her. After pretending she don't see me, she'll look up and tell me, "Not now, Bo, Mamma's busy." Then I just slowly scooch back a few feet and start my little whine routine. Ha! Gets her every time. She looks into my poor pitiful dark brown eyes, and I can see she be feeling guilty--hee, hee--'cause she'll set her computer over to the side and invite me to sit in her lap--well, at least half of me. Did I tell you I weigh seventy-five pounds? I place my big front paws up in her lap, and we get nose to nose just like when I was little, and then she like leans over, puts her arms around my neck and gives me a big long hug. We stay like that for a bit--til I get bored--and then I wiggle away and go take me another nap. Mission accomplished.
Since she be so nice to me, you know, most of da time, I usually share my couch space with her in the evening. When she finishes doing her doings and wants to watch some T.V., she'll come and ask me to scoot over, you know, so she can lay down, too. I pretend to be aggravated and take my time, but to tell the truth, I kinda like this nighttime routine. Besides, if I get tired of it and want my space, I just pass a little gas, and she be like jumpin' up and hollerin' at me. My ears perk up, and I look at her like, "What?" I mean, it's not like her toot toots smell like roses or somethin'.
I guess you can see by now that I could go on and on about life with Mamma, but I think you get the idea. She been good for me, and, I been, you know, good for her--at least that's what she be tellin' me every single day for the last ten years!
A Pet's View: My Owner Revealed Contest Winner |
 Recognized |
|
Please excuse me for my bad grammar and spellin' errors. Mamma tried to learn me better, but, you know, I really didn't pay no attention. I was usually too busy nappin'. - thanks, Bo
Pays
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