Livvie Lets Loose (and gives her opinion on everything and anything)


Finally, it is my turn to hold forth. Last week I told a story about puppies and change. Today I would like to speak about how everything in my family’s apartment belongs to me, and when I grant permission for others to share. 

First, my mommy belongs to me. The rule is that when I am climbing all over her and licking her face and chewing on her nose, other dogs should not come over. if they do, I growl and give a fierce look. If Kessie persists, we have a little play fight. I’m really not all that serious. There are times when I must be held very close by my mommy, and hugged and kissed. Usually no one interrupts.

Ok, Matilda’s red bed. She leaves a lot of spots open when she is lying down on her very large dog bed. I like to make use of the open spaces, and Matilda doesn’t seem to mind. So really, it is my bed. 

 I do share. Next week I might show you a picture of me and Kessie in a very tiny dog bed. He had just come to us, and was a little shy, but he squeezed into this teensy weensy bed with me, and I fell in love with him. I rested my head on him. Mom sent the picture to his foster mommy (where he lived for six months), and she cried.


Livvie Lets Loose: Livvie’s Strong Opinions About Everything

Livvie here.
Today I’m going to speak about puppies and change. Well, first of all, imagine me speaking quite quickly, and in a somewhat high-pitched, cute voice with a Louisiana accent. That is where I am from, but we don’t know where. Well, I do know, but we have a little translation issue. In my language, it translates to “the place where the tall grasses grow, and the feathered things run”. That kind of brings me to my first topic, puppies. Actually the change part is in there too. Here goes.

My compadres and I used to run free most of the day on a ranch, and we had some pretty crazy adventures, which I will tell you about another day. So, Tall Cute Boy and I had a lot of puppies. The humans on the ranch would always take them, and I would never see them again. This was so sad, and I was always trying to find out where they had gone. Did I tell you how much I love puppies? I’m not saying I love having them, but I love puppies. They don’t even have to be mine.

Anyway, one day Tall Cute Boy and I were looking around for some fun activities, and we decided to chase the feathered things. We had Little Pup One and Two with us. They were growing and not so tiny. We had so much fun, and even ate some of the feathered things.

Suddenly, the next thing we knew, we were all loaded up on the truck, and going in a direction we didn’t recognize, but did not have a good feeling about. Before you could say “Rat Terrier”, we were all in terrible cages, separated from each other, and surrounded by the scent of terror. It was mind-numbing and nose-numbing. I was trilling my little bird-like call, and kind of screaming. I really wanted to find Tall Cute Boy and Little Pup One and Two.

Finally two humans with soft voices took us all in their cars, but we were in cages. I never saw Tall Cute Boy again. He went off with one of the soft-voiced humans, and the pups and I went with the other. Then Little Pup One and I went with another human on a very long ride, and finally reached a place they called Albany. We moved in with a really nice family of humans and dogs and cats. I was feeling like I had some more puppies inside me, and wondered when I would see them. They called Little Pup One “Atticus”, and they called me “Scout”, or “Mama Dog”. Soon Atticus left with some soft-voiced humans. Not long after, my internal puppies emerged. We spent some time together, and then again, they left with more soft-voiced humans. I watched a foster sister give birth to her puppies, and wondered if I could have some of hers. I looked and looked for all the dogs in my family. I went upstairs and down.

One day, my foster mom said, “Mama Dog, you are going to your very own home in Brooklyn”. We all piled into the car–(my new human friends and my foster mom), and drove for a while, and we stopped at a place they called a motel, The Red Roof Inn. They brought me up some stairs, and I met some new soft-voiced humans. We all had some fun for a while, and then my foster family left. Not again!! I cried. And cried. Then I went over to the new humans to see what they had to say. They were very nice! They offered to cuddle with me and play, and talk. Soon we were sleeping, and I cried a little because I remembered my foster family, and the human I used to sleep with. But my new human said, “Come over here, Livvie”! (she had re-named me Olivia), and she was tapping a spot on the bed right beside her. I jumped up and cuddled into her, and that was the beginning of my very own home.

Whew, that was a bit longer than I had expected to bark-splain. I wanted to tell people about my life, and my fondness for puppies. Since I have been calling Brooklyn my home, I have met three best friend-puppies. All have moved away! But I have always stayed with my permanent mom. I also have a sister (Matilda) and a brother (Kes), and they have stayed as well. This is Matilda’s blog, but she asked me to write on Saturdays.

The lessons I have learned are:
1. Your dreams can come true
2. Never lose hope
3. Love fiercely and try to play-nip peoples’ noses (dogs too)
4. Encourage spaying and neutering. Other dog’s puppies are lovely.
5. Learn to doggy-smile (I did)

Yours in nose-nipping ,

Livvie of the Brooklyn “Cramerzoo”