Sheba the Foxy Dog

I was soon busy making myself at home with my new family. That involved, among other things, peeing in lots of places when the humans weren't watching so the house smelt just the way I like it and every dog in the neighbourhood knew I was home and the house therefore foxy. We fox terriers are a pretty territorial lot, even the females like me. The gentleman took to following me around with a mop and bucket, a new experience for him no doubt. He was encouraging me to do my business outside, I understood that, but clearly I had another purpose which he just didn't understand. Their home was mine now.

My life took a turn for the better once I finally left the shelter with the gentleman and his lady. They took me to their home and pampered me with lots of doggy treats and some new things like my own little day sofa in my favorite colour - pink! I look right at home, don't I? That's because I am at home with my new family. I shall shower them with lots of love for rescuing me as only a foxy little lady dog can!

I didn't write my blog yesterday because I went shopping. A girl has to shop. My claws were a fright after all this keying too. So I had them seen to as well. So where was I? Oh yes, the old guy went away without taking me home and I was a bit miffed about that. Am I not pretty enough? Was it something I said? That night was pretty miserable. I had boasted to the other dogs that I was out of there. Some of them let me know how wrong I was, especially the boofhead breeds like the Stafford-shires and the bull terriers, who had little or no hope of finding a home except with some knucklehead. Others like Mr Bo Jangles comforted me. They knew the pain rejection causes. The next day things got better - the old guy came back. This time he had a lady with him. She looked pretty foxy, just like me. We went into the meeting pen and she squealed with delight when she saw me - at last someone who appreciates class. We were friends immediately. I decided playing the demure lost damsel wa

I was pretty over life at the shelter as I told you after only a little while, though I did make the place sparkle and gave it a touch of glamour when I was there of course. It came naturally. But there is only so much even a foxy lady like me can do for a drab and sad old animal shelter. No offence to the wonderful RSPCA and please continue to give generously. Specify disco lights, cocktail collars and mirror balls in your donation (only for the dogs not the cats, who already have far too much bling) if you want to help spunky dogs like me! One bright spot was the shelter took my photo to put up on their web site, which may further my modelling career later. The hits on their web site went up immensely and the human helpers thought their computer system was under attack from a malicious virus. But it was just my many future fans and admirers checking in. Word spread like wildfire. Who knows where those photos might lead my incredibly photogenic self? I clearly have the potential f

My foxiness couldn't save me from the monotony and routine of shelter life, even if I was only there for a few days before being rescued. The humans were very kind to animals, but in a fun-less kind of way being part of the incredibly serious and reputable RSPCA. It was all very worthy of course, and not all the helpers were like that. I made lots of friends among the human helpers but the happy ones were my favorites. I tried to cheer up the more serious ones by being my adorable self, which always worked because I'm so easy to love. Some of them seemed to have turned to animals because of troubles they had with their own kind, which showed on their bare human faces. Dogs don't have these troubles because we are loyal and true. The title of the organisation says prevention of cruelty to animals. It doesn't say anything about helping them to shine on like crazy diamonds, which of course is what I wanted to do. I wanted to be wild and free, with lots of leaf litter a

Although I'm really only a puppy dog, like many young ones these days I had a fabulous life with the lovely lady before I was locked up at the shelter by cruel fate. The lovely lady lived in a block of flats and there were many doggies who knew that girls just want to have fun. One of my favorites was the Pekinese down the hall who asked me not to use his name or show his photo, ever. He liked to lace his Chow Mein with a special sauce he called "China Gold". I'd often pop down there for a bowl or two and didn't quite feel myself afterwards: For some reason I kept wanting to go back for some of that soup. But when I refused to join his risque full moon cabaret act, that friendship ended and so did the special soup sessions. Ah well, a nice girl like me has to have standards you know. Otherwise I will lose my foxiness. The glazed, puffy look just doesn't suit us, does it girls! Especially with my pixie ears standing up so nicely, I need to charm