It feels good. I will lay on my back. Giant Papa and Giant Mama will take their paws and rub my tummy. They bark it’s a sack of potatoes. Giant Papa hits a certain spot. It feels so good. My leg won’t stop kicking. Giant Mama rubs her paw gently. Up and down she will rub. It puts me to sleep. It feels safe and nice.
“… look at that sack of potatoes…”
“…she’s a good girl…”
“… can’t believe we found her in a ditch…”
“… we were meant to find her…”
Giant Papa made something tonight. It smelled hot and good. It was a meat stick. A hot meat stick. Giant Papa made it outside on the dark table. It made popping noises and hissed. It smelled great. I kept running to it. I would jump. I would scratch at Giant Papa’s leg. When Giant Mama and my toys weren’t looking he would give me some of the meat stick. My favorite toy saw. My favorite toy has big eyes. But I am bigger than my favorite toy now. When I first came home he was bigger. And he didn’t squeak at all. Now, squeaking and playing back is all it does when I play with it. I lick and paw and chew on it. It runs and squeaks. It is so much fun.
“… Furface leave Ryder alone…”
That’s what Giant Papa barks. When he cuddles and pats me and rubs on me or when I am in trouble and can’t understand he barks FURFACE. But I am Winnie-Winnie-Winnie-Winnie. My ears go up when I hear it. I don’t understand FURFACE. But I think I am a FURFACE. Maybe that is my tribe. Perhaps that is my title. But Winnie-Winnie-Winnie-Winnie is my call. It is a special bark for me. I like my special bark. And I really like Giant Mama and Giant Papa.