Hello world - From Marcia

Well!  It's about time someone asked me what I think. 

My name is Marcia.  I'm a dog.  No one knows for sure what breed of dog I am.  I look like a cross between a German Shepherd, a Dachshund, a Min Pin, with a splash of Beagle and maybe some Jack Russell Terrier.  I think I'm on the petite side - about 22 lbs, although my people have referred to me as a "potato with feet".  Whatever!  They just wish they had my life.

Anyway, I have the last laugh.  It's not easy being adorable, but somebody around here has to do it, and today that somebody is me.  

I have the benefit of having catlike reflexes.  I can leap onto couches and warm, comfy beds in a single bound, which is nice since I live with two much larger, German Shepherds who would rudely trot right over me if I was in their way of a treat, a toy, or the yard.

I was formerly homeless (I prefer to think of it as "in a transitional housing situation") until I got pulled, pregnant, from a high kill shelter down south by a northern NJ rescue.  I ended up in a temporary foster home with my people, who had fostered around 20 dogs over the past couple of years before I arrived.  They got a couple of applications for me, but none panned out. 

One guy asked if he could just adopt me for free since, as he said, "Nobody would want her anyway since she's older (I'm 2 years old)."  Another woman asked if they could "knock down the adoption fee" while shreiking at her kids to, "Stop hitting things!" because as she put it,  "It's not like she's a puppy anymore."  

My people ended up keeping me and became known as "foster failures."  To repay them, I've done everything I can.  I haven't yet figured out the difference between a chew toy and those clunky things my people insist on wearing on their feet, so I like to drag everything  outside to the backyard.  I think the "hide the shoes in the yard" game is fun for everyone to play just before getting ready to leave for work. 

Yesterday I found a huge snake in the backyard.  I was so excited!  I picked it up and carried it all the way up to the backyard deck, where I deposited it, still sort of slithering, onto the welcome mat to honor my people.

Tami shreiked and Rob gingerly picked it up with a stick to deposit across the street.  I was completely offended by this.  I didn't understand.  What??  Wrong size snake?  Wrong color?  You already have a half dead snake? 

So I started this blog to try to explain why I see things the way I do, and maybe that's how your dogs sees things, too.