Age: 4 Yrs. Old
Adoption Fee: $600.00
Special Needs: no
Hello all it’s me, Brandi joining rescue. Sorry about the graphic picks of the “other end,” but it’s the part that hurts the worse. If anyone can tell me why my life ended up this way I sure wish they would speak up. My skin feels like I was set on fire. I have a hernia that I did not show you because it’s really bad and not everything needs to be shown. I have waited for along time for rescue to find me, rescue me and get me some help. Finally on Monday you found me and you rescued me. Let the healing begin. Love, Brandi.
10/10/19 Update: My brief online profile notes that my prognosis was pessimistic. I do not know why so many of my fellow Bulldogs suffer at the hands of callous people. As darkness gathered, a miracle dawned and rescue found me. The vet clinic treated my afflictions and pointed me toward a promising future. Dare I dream?
My dogtor and her team at the legendary doc shop helped me, and then I moved to my foster home to continue my rehabilitation and to learn how to love and trust again. My spirit soars as my soul paws the path to becoming the loving companion I was meant to be. I am quite the fetching Bulldog girl what with my trim summer bod, one blue and one brown eye, and come hither guiles.
A nice man (Dog Uber) and woman squired me to my new BBnB digs in their SUV. Wow, how rad – my own chauffeur and shotgun escort! I must be a special girl. And now, I am the guest of honor in a swank visitor apartment. It is a nifty efficiency with private dining area and a fresh, new comfy bed. I peed on it to claim as my own. I now know what “NO” means. My unit has a washer and dryer so I felt obliged.
Soon after arrival, the dining staff rolled out the hospitality cart with beverages and snacks. Did someone call ahead for room service? Bits of ham, nibbles of crab legs, and Cheez-its jumped onto my taste buds. Word is that this “Bulldog Happy Hour” (BHH) is a twice daily tradition here. The drinks featured mint/watermelon ice cubes in soda water and a banana and peanut butter yogurt yummy. A Texas girl could get used to this treatment.
I am the new pup at this pound, but I like the prospects. There are other Bulldogs here, all but one of whom is searching for her furever home. The exception is the resident queen, this camp’s canine commander. She is a “peace and love” tyrant. The pack introduction must go smooth and slow until I gain confidence and security.
We Bulldogs eat to live and live to eat. I have only dined here a few times, but I sense haute cuisine by smell and taste. In addition to BHH, we enjoy sumptuous meals. Our designer dog food is supplemented by an 1/8 cup of protein du jour. It is warmed in a pumpkin and broth finishing sauce spooned over the serving bowl, uhm-uhm good. I hear that the desserts include fresh baked goodies, fruit, cheese, even ice cream. Sounds good to my ears. Can’t wait to feel it on my tongue.
The other Bulldogs have run of the house privileges. That is my first goal. Given the newness, my behavior has been a bit boisterous when left alone. My anthem is “I’m little but I’m loud.” My peeps are working with me to quiet the cacophony.
My youth and vigor engender excitement so running off my energy is important. Foster dad has been confining the others and allowing me to sprint around the yard and romp and scamper inside. I like this special treatment. My potty behavior is a work in process. Because proper potty policy is required for house privileges, you can be certain I will hurdle that barrier in two shakes of a cinnamon tail.
I can be ready to move into your loving home post haste, presuming that you exceed my loving specifications. So what are you waiting for?