Hi! My name is Ziggy. I am a five week old Westie pup, and already showing my literary abilities by writing vicariously from something called a McBook. Or that's what it sounds like, any way. It's bright and shiny and looks delicious, especially the rubber mat over the keys, which looks especially delectable.
Any way, I still live with my siblings and dog mom, in a land far, far
West of Jamie*, who I met last week. She claims she will very soon be
my mom. The calendar date for bringing me home is May 16, which means nothing to me, but I am told it is "very soon."
Any way, I'm not too sure about this "going home with Jamie" business,
or what it means for me. How are all my siblings and mom going to fit
in this contraption she calls a "car"?
Here is a picture of Jamie and me when fate brought us together last week:
She also says there will be a "car ride" involved to get me to her
house. I sure hope "car ride" is synonymous with tasty food, because I
have high gustatory sensibilities. I'm rather refined that way, you see.
She also says she's not sure of my name yet--says she might end up
naming me "Gus." Oh boy. This "Jamie" character. Maybe I'll change
*her* name and see how she likes it. This makes me wonder what she *is*
sure of, frankly. I mean, I thought moms were supposed to be tough and
in charge? My dog mom sure is! Boy, can't get anything past her, boy
howdy. And I do try. I'm a very determined gent like that.
Speaking of my dog mom: here she is. Her name is Rosa, and she's a great mom and really sweet with humans. Jamie loved her! I want to be just like her when I grow up.
And of course, no puppy blog would be complete without a picture of me, zonked out after an exhausting day of meet 'n greets:
Well, I'm off to find a spot to do some more rough housing with my
siblings, and maybe leave a classic Westie calling card. You know how
those have to placed "just so." It's really an art form that humans
don't understand too well, but just trust me on this one.
*NB: Jamie here. Ziggy currently lives about twenty five minutes from me. Puppies and their tendency to hyperbolize... but, hey--it's all relative.