Our Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean

Babby.  The name says it all.  A baby so beloved you call it Babby.  I was so cute, thick off white cropped fur, with floppy ears. I was not one of those plush real life size doggies. No, I was flat enough to fit perfectly in a puppy’s mouth in order to be carried from destination to destination. Sometimes I would be stranded for hours, days until Momma realized and set up a search party of one to find me.

No, I did not come from a $ Store. Still, I was cloned in a pet toy factory, continents away, that mass produces all things plush by engineers who figure out scientifically and with some degree of accuracy, the numbers of bites, chews and degree of grooming a pet toy can take in a dog’s lifetime.  But the manufacturing plant did not name me or send me to my Forever Home.  It just put a price on my head, loaded me on a cargo boat, and sold me to the highest bidder, a well-known department store pet section.

Now we also needed Four Footed Intervention to find me my Forever Home That was where Our Bonnie (Momma) came in play.  When she and Daddy were watching television and an ad would pop up that featured a Yorkshire Terrier, Daddy would get unnaturally quiet.  Momma knew what that meant and she stealthily went about making Daddy’s dream a reality, much to Wonder Boy’s horror.  Having Teddy, the American Eskimo (definitely Momma’s dog) was enough punishment for Wonder Boy’s sensitive ears but a Yappy Yorkie? Are you kidding?

A Yorkie needs nutritious food, bones to chew, a cage to sleep in  and toys to play with.  Now Momma always knew what she was looking for. That made it easy.  She bought me and Miss Piggy for Daddy’s Yorkie, Zanny to wile away the hours with.

Because Miss  Piggy was made of robust pink rubber with a painted on smile and a  cute little tail, she got the lion’s share of the chewing and slobbering.  I got carried from way station to way station, shook vigorously along the way, till I swear I had the Shaken Baby Syndrome.  It was obvious Zanny, the Yorkie  had a lot to teach me. I always wondered if that was how her Momma treated her.

Then, well if you know the Tigger story…. Zanny was gone, gone, gone and play time, like the tune on a wind down music box, ended.  Years passed and we waited, not knowing if life, as we knew it, would ever be re-invented.

One day, one sweet day, we heard a little ruff which was trying valiantly to sound large and commanding.  Then there were little growls and sighs, an honest bark.  It was Game On.  Only Jakita, well, she was made to mother.  She has an inborn sense of responsibility and righteousness. We are no longer allowed outside. Sometimes we are carried to the shed room but are left to wait there until she returns and brings us back in to her doggie pillow.  Still, she will give us a mean shake every now and then.  Makes me think, it wasn’t Zanny, all dogs have that method of control.  Maybe we need it, who knows.

I notice  both Miss Piggy and my ears are a little chewed but the engineers did okay since at least they are still attached. Maybe we should add some sparkly diamond earrings to our ear lobes to cover the damage. Good news – we are still around, offering comfort and fun after fourteen years, hanging out with the Incredibly Wide Eyed Stuffed Monkey, Ruby Tutu, with her fixed glassy  stare, who is a fountain of wisdom and serenity .

We are not going anywhere anytime soon. Miss Piggy and I, we are the Lucky Ones! We found our Forever Home.

And if it ain’t, ya don’t fix it…Hear?????