I've had pets my whole life. I even grew up with a cat that was older than I was. My family has always had a soft spot for the ones in need. My mom found the cat in her parking space in college, he was little and sickly and wouldn't move. She worked at a vet clinic as a tech so she took him in. Without knowing what the implications would be later, she named him Pussy Gato. He was a great cat, slept with me in the crib, never bit anyone, was a total sweetheart. I had a pretty jaded view of animals because of him, I just assumed they were all that way. He lived to be 18.
Next was Noelle, or Wooby as we called her. She was my birthday present when I was 10. I had to keep my room clean for 6 months before my parents thought I could be responsible enough for a dog. She was my first love. I was not a perfect parent, but I loved her more than anything and she loved me unconditionally too. She would jump the fence (6ft fence, and she was a 15 pound small border collie mix) and follow me to piano lessons on my bike. Luckily she was small enough to fit in my backpack so when I'd see her running behind me I would stop and pick her up and put her in my pack. My piano teacher hated it but I didn't care.
My parents started calling her Wooby from the movie Mr. Mom. The "wooby" was the little boys security blanket. The dog was mine.
When I was 15, my parents divorced and along with my brothers and I, the dog kind of got caught in the middle. For the next 3 years I was in and out of the house and fighting with everything and everybody. I tried to take her with me when I could, but I couch surfed a lot and couldn't. After my 18th birthday my mom officially kicked me out of the house so I went to live with a friend of mine. I couldn't take her with me and it broke my heart. My mom said once graduation came, that I had to find a place for her.
She had originally came from my uncle who's dog had had puppies. So when I moved in with my dad after graduation, the decision was that she would go back with my uncle until we moved into a place where we could have dogs which would be 6 months from then. I was devastated but also relieved that it wouldn't be forever. Over the next two months, Wooby managed to run away from my uncle's house twice. The second time she was never found. I was later told that she never seemed happy there and they felt that she was trying to find me. I just about died when they told me. It took me 10 years to get through it.
Then, Jack came into my life and my heart opened up again for him.
Next was Noelle, or Wooby as we called her. She was my birthday present when I was 10. I had to keep my room clean for 6 months before my parents thought I could be responsible enough for a dog. She was my first love. I was not a perfect parent, but I loved her more than anything and she loved me unconditionally too. She would jump the fence (6ft fence, and she was a 15 pound small border collie mix) and follow me to piano lessons on my bike. Luckily she was small enough to fit in my backpack so when I'd see her running behind me I would stop and pick her up and put her in my pack. My piano teacher hated it but I didn't care.
My parents started calling her Wooby from the movie Mr. Mom. The "wooby" was the little boys security blanket. The dog was mine.
When I was 15, my parents divorced and along with my brothers and I, the dog kind of got caught in the middle. For the next 3 years I was in and out of the house and fighting with everything and everybody. I tried to take her with me when I could, but I couch surfed a lot and couldn't. After my 18th birthday my mom officially kicked me out of the house so I went to live with a friend of mine. I couldn't take her with me and it broke my heart. My mom said once graduation came, that I had to find a place for her.
She had originally came from my uncle who's dog had had puppies. So when I moved in with my dad after graduation, the decision was that she would go back with my uncle until we moved into a place where we could have dogs which would be 6 months from then. I was devastated but also relieved that it wouldn't be forever. Over the next two months, Wooby managed to run away from my uncle's house twice. The second time she was never found. I was later told that she never seemed happy there and they felt that she was trying to find me. I just about died when they told me. It took me 10 years to get through it.
Then, Jack came into my life and my heart opened up again for him.
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