I barked for twenty minutes. The female peep came running down the stairs, looked at me and in a stern, mother voice said:
FEMALE PEEP: “Stop it. That’s enough.”
Then she took me out of the crate and right outside for a potty break (which I didn’t need to do), and then back into the crate.
FEMALE PEEP: “Now go to sleep.”
Back up the stairs she went. A short while later I heard one final sentence.
MALE PEEP: “Strike Two, Charlie Bear.”
My foster mom tried to warn the peeps. ”Charlie Bear is all about routine,” she’d told them, “so we suspect the first week will be tough for him.” That turned out to be an understatement.
I already told you I wrapped the male peep around my paw on the first visit. He fell in love with my cuteness right away. The female peep…not so much. She was all about the big dog. It was just a matter of time before I’d take over that top dog spot. I had it all planned. Trouble was, my old issues kept getting in the way.
I guarded my food and my toys and snapped at anyone who tried to take them away. I went into chasing my tail, which my female peep began to call my “spin cycles,” whenever I didn’t get my own way. And these new peeps had a firmness about them. They didn’t cotton to letting me rule the roost. Darn it.
There was something about the touch of that male peep, though, that brought out the Charlie Cuddly Bear in me. My foster mom had told them I could be the cutest little snuggler, and it was true. When I wanted to, I could spread on the charm. And the male peep lapped it up.
But I had two strikes against me in two days. I knew what they said in baseball: “Three strikes and you’re out.”
* * *
NOTE: If you want to catch up with what happened in LBA (Life Before Adoption), you can look under “Charlie Chat” on the right. All the posts are there, and these new ones about LAA (Life After Adoption) will be there too. As my new peep called it in previous posts, watch for more of Something to Chew On by me, Charlie Bear, in the weeks ahead.
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