‘Sup, homeslice? It’s Ella here, checking in after a long hiatus. It’s not that I’ve forgotten about you, I’ve just been…preoccupied. It’s hard being this smart and adorable: People want a lot out of you, like learning how to mimic a polar bear. (You shrug, but it’s true: It’s the latest in my repertoire of genius tricks. I’ll show you sometime.)
On the road, I made a lot of friends, but we never stuck around long enough for me to really get to know my peers—usually, just a quick “hallo, how do you do, may I sniff your butt?” before moving on.
Mom’s talked enough about our epic road trip—and epic it was! for one, do you know how delicious cows smell?—so I’ll start where that left off. When we got back to California, we had four days at Dad’s parents’ house in the Sacramento suburbs. This meant one thing for me: PLAYMATE! They have a rat terrier mix, Dancer, who is kind of my bestie; Grammie calls us the Salt and Pepper Muppets.
Then, we went to see our favorite friends, John and Ray, and their kids, Walter and Kit, and stay with them for a night in Redwood City. Walter and Kit are usually pretty mellow
and like to do a whole lot of sitting around and twiddling their paws, but I brought those cool cats (erm, dawgs) out of their shells.
We played and played and then played some more. It was probably the best day ever. At least the best day since my last best day with Dancer. I don’t know. All these best days run together. That’s what happens when you’re a jolly puppy with lots of jolly good things going for you.
But then came the part that really made me mad: Mom and Dad abandoned me and left me in Redwood City (albeit with the nicest lady ever, Miss Dot, but still). At first I was livid. I sat at the gate in Miss Dot’s awesome backyard jungle and howled for 24 solid hours. Miss Dot told Mom I can be “quite the brat sometimes.” But she changed her tune over the course of the next 13 days. We played nonstop and there was another dog there, Snickers, and I played with her too, and Dot built me staircases up to her couches so I could run around like the billy goat that I am, and then when I went home after two weeks, I moped for Miss Dot for a solid couple days! I also started climbing my own furniture. I like being atop a full suitcase the best.
Or inside one.
Because, after all, once Mom and Dad got back from their cruise, they started packing up boxes and our San Francisco apartment became one giant storage facility, or so it seemed. I didn’t want to risk being left behind—again!
Mom even tried to be sneaky and pack up a few of her stuffed animals from the bookcase—a camel and a pair of monkeys in bridal wear. Which is just plain silly of her, as I in fact own the color brown. (I have two monkeys, a reindeer, a moose and a teddy bear—and that’s just a start. If it ain’t brown, I ain’t buying it.) I wasn’t having any of that.
(Oh, to be a little bit taller.)
When we got back, I was in dog(gone) Heaven. Because you know who lives at my grandparents’ house/mom’s childhood home…
MY BIRTH PARENTS! I hadn’t seen them since Christmas, and they both kept remarking at what a sophisticated, young lady I have turned into. (OK, maybe no one actually said that, but I know it’s what they were thinking.) That’s my dad Kobe in the middle—yeah, he’s a hippie, what of it?—and Katey on the right.
Speaking of packing and moving and leaving places, I hear I’m being left once again. But for FOUR MONTHS this time. Can you even believe these people? The nerve not to take me with them! At least I’ll get to remain in the lap of luxury back in Tennessee with my grandpeople, Katey and Kobe, and three stepbrother-uncles (incest is big in our clan), Kasper, Ka-Oz and Kruzer. I might not even act like I remember Mom and Dad when they come back—who knows? Would serve them right. All I know is Mom did the ugly cry no fewer than four times this week, and it wasn’t pretty. I think I’m taking this whole transition a whole lot easier than they are. Mom and Dad who?
More news from the homestead to come…