A Bulldog Flashback-8 Months Old and Loved

As told by Daisy-My first home was a beautiful two-story Colonial. I enjoyed familiar scents snuggling with my furry mother, brother and sisters, as well. But, I heard from voices in the house, that we pups were very popular and people had to have us. They must. I watched from my warm, big room, as people knelt down to scoop one of us up. Then they were gone. My saddest morning was when my furry gentle mother left. The voices said she must retire. She was mother to so many before us, that she needed to rest. She left for a place called Florida because that was best.

My familiar surroundings were changing, but I was loved and happy. The voices were talking about me. They whispered in my ear and were reassuring. My new momma and daddy were on their way! Each day I looked out the french door, then turned with a sigh.

One morning, as I walked out on the warm patio, I heard a cry. This creature with a different scent knelt down. “I don’t know you!” I said. She laughed! What a beautiful new sound. She called me a daisy and cried on my fur. I laid on my puppy belly and she laughed that beautiful laugh again and again.

Then, he walked out. I ran to the chair. I peed and crawled all around. His hands came and picked me up. I didn’t know him, and looked for my new momma. Her voice was behind him, as he walked away from the house.

She sat in a new thing and I was in her arms. I pushed up against her and her heart was beating as fast as mine. I had to make her laugh again. But, then we were moving, and her arms tightened around me.

These new voices talked and I heard the word daisy. Moving around on her lap, I kept slipping down. Then we were not moving, and his hands gathered me gently. I went in to a crate in the backseat. Warm blankets that smelled of them, made me happy.

As we moved on down the road, I found toys placed in different spots of the blanket. Their voices grew happier and happier as I found a new gift. I heard her laugh, and I knew I had made her do this again.

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