My new B.F.F.

Well, it is final. There's a new dog in my life.

Mom and M.G. were approved to adopt "Leigh Ann", and Mom went to pick her up this weekend! I wanted to come and be part of the 'Welcoming Committee', but Mom said I was too "spastic" and would freak out the new dog. So I waited at home instead, semi-patiently.

Leigh Ann got rescued from the same lady who rescued me, so we already have that in common. Plus we were both stuck in a life of constant humping and giving birth before we were rescued, so we'll have that to talk about when the humans aren't around. We spent some time alone together yesterday when Mom and M.G. went to their offices, and I told Leigh Ann all about how good her life is going to be from now on. Slumbering parties, lots of belly scratches, and we get to go on walkies all the time.

I kept telling her all these good things, but she was just cocking her head to the side and looking at me funny. I guess she doesn't speak Ewok.

It's a good thing I am half-French though! I had to dust off some of my old French and try and communicate with her.

"Ummm, C'est une maison gentille. Mom and M.G. sont un bon nombre d'amusement. (That means we have lots of fun.) I will share my jouets (toys) with you, and you can use my jardin (garden) to make pee pee. The humans love it when we go potty dehors (outside), and you will get récompenses (like treats!) every time. They really love it when we go potty outside, so if you learn this pretty quick, they will probably let you stick around for a while."

She seemed to understand my "Frenglish" a little bit, so then she started to talk back to me.

"Bonjour. Je m'appelle 'Tatters'! Merci de m'inviter à votre maison. Sank you verrry much. Pleaze inform your humans I preferz to be called "Tatters". Leigh Ann was zee named they used to call me in zee puppy mill, but now, je suis a--how do you Americans say-- Independent Woman! And my new name shall be "Tatters".

"Oh, okay Tatters. I'll let them know. I'm Wicket. I'm pretty much Queen of the house. Then there is Chuck. He is 91 years old, and mostly just sleeps and licks the furniture. Sometimes I have to check and make sure he is still breathing during the day, so you can help me out with that sometimes."

"Ah, pardon, Wicket? Can we stop zee talking for now? Je suis très fatigué, and I need my beauty rest."

"Ummm, okay, but we are going to play later on, right? Cuz Mom promised me we would be new playmates."

"Oui, we will play later."

Then she went and pooped on the kitchen rug and took a loooong nap.

But Tatters followed through on her promise. We played around a lot this morning. We chased eachother, and played with toys. Then I mostly collapsed after about 10 minutes and had to go lay on Mom's down comforter, since I am out of shape and out of breath.

Tatters has no idea what walkies are all about. When we go on our walkies, she doesn't sniff the ground or pee on top of other dog's pee or anything. She mostly freaks out about being on a leash. I'll have to talk to her about that, because it is starting to affect my walkies, and I need at least a mile a day to keep this girlish figure in check. We'll try walkies again today and see if she starts to get it.

This is Tatters, my new B.F.F.