Friday, March 23, 2007

Fatty Cakes - Fatty Cakes


I don't know why Caity decided to call the puppy Fatty Cakes. Could it be because he's only 10 weeks old and about as round as a Butterball turkey? Could be. We were out walking, Laura and I, and this very nice landscaping man came up to us just outside our home and asked if we knew anyone that wanted a dog. He opened his truck door and there on the floor of the GMC was a little, young, fat, rolly-polly of a pit bull. The puppy is 10 weeks old approximately, and well - the fattest little puppy I've seen in a long time. Travis (landscaper) told me he was given the puppy in trade and didn't have a place for it. (I personally don't believe his story - but I can't prove it.) We'll run ads in the paper but to be honest with you, I know the puppy will be squeezed and loved on a few days before the ad runs. We do that - we foster, love, squeeze, hug, kiss, maul and roll around with puppies - they find us. We don't even have to go out looking.

So, Fatty Cakes and Caity have been inseparable today - kissing, biting, playing, rolling, tripping over one another and going outside to chase the 11 squirrels who have decided that the possum in our backyard was in need of a few good neighbors. We went house shopping today and I'll be danged if the one house that looks like it's going to work well for us actually ABUTTS the trail - where Caity found the dead beaver, where Laura relocates every turtle this side of the Mississippi, and where the girls go to take mud baths thinking no one is watching - righhhhhht.

Well, rest well Fatty - soon you will be in the arms of another little girl perhaps - one with normal hair, no facial piercings, and who doesn't scream obsenities at her sister in front of your delicate little puppy ears. Thanks Travis!

1 comment:

Jodi said...

Excuse me while I cry and squeal over the cuteness. Of the puppy, I mean, but hey, the girl's adorable, too! ;-)

Of course the puppies just find you. They know where the love is. I'm the same way with animals. Dogs on the street just "know" I love them. They gravitate to me -- even the ones whose "parents" say that their dogs are really not social.