Puck

His life and experiences through his perspective

By ~ flexiblegirl06

One summer day, we drove to Walmart where we would meet our future companion, Puck James. Here is his story; through his paws.

“I hated it there; my old home.I was always stuck in that cage. When I was let out, I would chase my kitten sisters, and fight my brother.  But one day I ended up in a hospital with a few stitches in my shoulder because he ripped it open with his powerful jaw. Who was I kidding!  A small maltese fighting a huge german shepherd. I thought it was only fun. I thought I would go home and it would be just the way it used to be. But I was plain wrong, did I know that I would soon be in a different home, away from everything I ever knew! I didn’t realize that that was the best decision my human parents, and my soon to be human parents ever made.

It’s been a few years since I moved here. My shoulder has healed up. My hoomans have gotten rid of the cage, which to me was a good idea. I can run free around the house; upstairs, downstairs, upstairs, downstairs, through the living room and under the dinner table which is where they call it “My Corner”. I have all my toys: my beat up cupcake, my flamingo named Frank, my lolli-pop which squeaks, and even that rope I don’t play with. They always give me attention, unlike my old home. I have lost so much weight since I moved here because they give me certain amounts everyday! I get to sit on the couch, and sleep on their beds. The only thing I am uncertain about is that I have no other friends. Maybe it’s because I am a jerk around other pets. I freak out and do my jiggle dance and bark freakishly loud and high pitched. But I don’t see the problem! That’s why I have my babies, oh how much I love my babies. Well, technically, they are my hooman sister’s socks. Every night, I sneak into her room and reach my head over her hamper and snatch a sock. Or when she doesn’t fold her laundry, she leaves it in a pile on her floor; perfect for me to steal something. When I can’t reach any socks out of her hamper, I will try to pull them through the little holes in her hamper, but they are too small to pull anything through.

One of my favorite things to do with my hoomans is go to their beach house. I love going on there boat and placing my front paws on the railing and feeling the salty air on my wet tongue. They take me to these islands. I’m not sure what they are called but they let me off my leash and I run around sniffing all the scents and running across the sand, fast as lightning just like a mustang. I run around and feel free. I forget about my past life and my cramped cage and  my brothers and sisters and my stitched shoulder and my old home. I feel alive. The wind whipping through my fur and the sand blowing up from my feet. They would always call my name and tell me not to eat the seagull poop. Man, those were the best times, and they always will be.”