How I Met My Other: Furry Friends, True Tails

Description

Nothing is like the warmth, fun, and unconditional love of a pet. In this collection of twenty true stories, pet owners share the life-changing moments they met that special cat, dog, and even llama. Laugh at the goofballs that leap to amazing heights, lead parades, try to take over the house, and find creative ways to show their dissatisfaction. Feel the love of the sweethearts who help their owners make it through illness and emotional challenges. Experience the strength and total devotion of these special animals. Join us in celebrating one of life’s greatest gifts: the never-ending love of a pet.

Dedication . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . v

Acknowledgements . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . vii

Introduction. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xi

The Fox and the Hound. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

The Cat Burglar. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 9

That Dog. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22

Let Me into Your Home, Your Life, Your Heart . . . . . . . . 30

A Home for Daisey . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40

Sometimes Our Fur Babies Are Our Best Medicine . . . . . 46

Rochelle, Nicknamed Rocky . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59

Queen Isabella. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 71

One-Eyed Jack. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85

Kissed by a Llama. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 95

Family. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106

The Cat Calling . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 120

The Dog That Rescued Me. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 128

Winston: A Love Story. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 138

Catnapped to Happiness . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148

Fenway, A Beacon of Hope . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 155

You Really Want a Puppy?. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 168

Furever in My Heart. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 183

Life Goes On: Bailey and her Pups. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 195

Strange Invader. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 215

Book Club Discussion Questions . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 226

Meet the Authors . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228

Sujets

• Pet rescue
• Fish
• PETS
• Best Friends
• Companion
• Friendly
• General officer
• Dogs
• Animals
• General
• Ferret (vêtement)
• Cats

Informations

• Publié par: Orange Blossom Publishing
• Date de parution: 18 février 2020
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9781949935127
• Langue: English
• Poids de l'ouvrage: 4 Mo

Extrait

Table o f Contents
Dedication
Acknow ledgements
In troduction
The Fox and the Hound
The C at Burglar
That Dog
Let Me into Your Home, Your Life, Your Heart
A Home for Daisey
Sometimes Our Fur Babies Are Our Bes t Medicine
Rochelle, Nickn amed Rocky
Quee n Isabella
One -Eyed Jack
Kissed by a Llama
Family
The C at Calling
The Dog That Rescued Me
Winston: A Love Story
Catnapped to Happiness
Fenway, A Beac on of Hope
You Really Wan t a Puppy?
Furever i n My Heart
Life Goes On: Bailey an d her Pups
Stran ge Invader
Book Club Discussion Questions
Meet t he Authors
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How I Met
My Other
VOLUME 2
FURRY FRIENDS, TRUE TALES


How I Met
My Other
VOLUME 2
FURRY FRIENDS, TRUE TALES
Edited by Arielle Haughee



٢٠٢٠ © by Arielle Haughee.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage or retrieval system, in part, in any form, without the permission of the pu blisher.
Published 2020 by Orange Blossom Pu blishing
Maitland, Florida
www.orangeblossomb ooks.com
info@orangeblossomb ooks.com
Cover Design: Red Raven Boo k Design
Interior Formatting: Battle Goddess Pro ductions
Photo Preparation: The Inspired Stor ytellers
Print Edition ISBN: 978-1-949 935-11-0
Digital Edition ISBN: 978-1-949 935-12-7
Library of Congress Control Number: 20 20901596
All stories based off true events. Some names have been changed for privacy p urposes.


Dedication
To Maddux, the bestest boy, for always being sunny no matter how much it rains
and
To Lui, for all the kisses and cuddles. We miss you




Acknow ledgements
I would first like to thank my husband, Tim, for capitulating to my incessant requests for a puppy when we were dating. I love our puppykins and couldn’t imagine life without him. To Luke and Caleb, you are wonderful brothers to your furry sibling. He loves you almost as much as lizards a nd cheese.
I also want to thank the contributing authors. Without you all, this book wouldn’t have been possible. You are an amazingly talented group of people, and I am honored to share your stories here. Please keep writing and gifting the world with y our words.
Valerie Willis was the incredible formatter for this book, as well as several of my others. Thank you for putting up with me and making all my projects better with your personal touch. You truly are a won der woman.


In troduction
P ets give us the purest form of love. They stay by our sides no matter what we look like or experience. Day in and day out, they’re always there. They also give us joy, great big belly laughs and little chuckles of delight. Pets are our strength when we’re feeling low, hold us up during difficult times, and give us something to come home to everyday. We cherish memories of them for decades, waiting for the day we’ll be reunited.
Sometimes we find them in shelters or get them from friends. Other times they find us, wandering into our lives when we weren’t even looking. Either way, they impact us forever. It’s time to celebrate the furry friends in our lives. This book is a love letter to all those incredible animals who share our homes and o ur hearts.


The Fox and the Hound
By Kris tin Durfee
S he stares at me, unblinking, as the small creature bites her neck. And feet. And ears. And tail.
Weren’t we perfectly happy, you and I? she asks me with her eyes.
“Baby girl,” I say, kissing her three times behind the ear. “This is going to be so much fun. You’re my best friend and now I got you a best friend—a little brother!”
Her eyes narrow in annoyance as the little one bites on her lip and hangs there, his little nubby tail going a mile a minute.
I never planned on having a two-dog house. My husband had clamored for another pet for years, but I’d always fought it.
“We have the most special princess in the whole world. Why do we need another dog?” That was my argument.
Okay, I think highly of my dog, but it’s true! Newport is incredible. A hound-dog mutt of unknown origin whom we rescued from a puppy mill in Tennessee when her litter was only two weeks old. She came to us knowing a handful of tricks, and she quickly mastered more. Our first year went smoothly. We powered through the training, and while she had some tummy issues, Newport was the perf ect puppy.
Then, at Christmas, she ate every ornament on our tree.
I guess we can’t all b e perfect.
Our Grinch dog brought us joy for the next few years. We ran, went on walks, swam, and hiked in Georgia and in the Ocala Nation al Forest.
Each Christmas she ate every ornament she could get her paws on, but really, I can overlook a single fault that comes only a few weeks of the year.
As my husband and I worked, we worried Newport was lonely at home all day by herself. Plus, we were planning to add a two-legged kid to our mix and didn’t want her to feel neglected when the bab y arrived.
I began to warm up to the idea of another dog when I walked into my local PetSmart to get Newport some food.
The re he was.
When I tell you this dog was stinking cute, it’s an understatement. Kids surrounded his crate, reaching their fingers in, and his eyes closed in pleasure as he pushed into them, trying to get as close as possible. He looked like a miniature, tail-less German Shephard and was aptly named Foxie. I immediately fell in love and sent a picture of him to my husband, who was traveling for work. He responded instantly.
Get him .
Babe , I wrote back, you aren’t even home. Don’t you want to meet him?
Jus t get him.
Heart racing, I found the lady from the rescue and pointed out the perfect little gentleman now staring at me with straigh t-up ears.
He’d been at their rescue for a few months, and while he was available for adoption, there was a catch: he was positive for h eartworms.
I’d worked at a vet’s office all through high school and part of college, so I knew how dangerous the treatments could be. There was a chance he wouldn’t make it. I told her we were interested anyway and said I’d be back the following week with my husband to fill out the paperwork and pay the adoption fee. Foxie was a risk we were willing to bet on.

A few weeks later, we got the call that he’d completed his treatment and could come home with us. The adventure was about to begin.
Which, of course, meant I now had to prepare myself for having another dog. Flashbacks of potty training and sleepless nights raced through my mind. Having a pet is totally worth it in my book, but holy cow it can be difficult sometimes. Here I was with my nice, stable life, about to jump into the uncertainty with two feet. I was apprehensive, but kept reminding myself this little dog needed a home, and we’d all figure it out together.
Plus, he was so cute. Like, literally the cutest thing. But what he had in looks, we soon learned he matched in fear of the world. We knew nothing about his background except that he was running loose on the streets of Alabama when they rescued him. They guessed he was about a year old, but other than that, he was a mystery.
Not that we thought it would be an easy transition, but we weren’t quite prepared for the uphill battle we were about to embark on. Everything outside scared him. If he got too close to a fire hydrant, he’d slip out of his collar and try to run home. If a loud truck rumbled down the road, he’d leap into my arms. Manhole covers clearly led straight to a cavernous abyss that ate dogs and had to be given a w ide berth.
Foxie expressed his anxiety indoors by eating anything he could. Once, I came home and discovered he’d removed all the laundry from our baskets, sorted them into nests, and ripped apart a few odds and ends. He cowered in the corner, trembling so badly I didn’t even have the heart to ye ll at him.
When my husband came home from work a few hours later and I showed him the carnage, he walked up to Foxie to admonish him, but was also faced with the fearful creature I’d witnessed.
“Oh bud,” he said and turned to me. “How do we yel l at him?”
I shrugged. Just as it had worked for us when we were kids, apparently the disappointment card was enough to send this poor little dog into a tailspin. If you spoke sternly or wagged a finger at him, his ears would flatten and a sad little grin would spread on his face. He was off the hook, for now, but we soon realized what we’d previously had to deal with in a few destroyed ornaments was nothing compared to what Foxie had in store.
A short, incomplete, tally of the things Foxie had eaten:
- four dog beds (all Newport’s)
- the tongues of three run ning shoes
- at least ten books
- a w elcome mat
- a TempurPe dic pillow
- a bra
- two dog beds (his)
- a n area rug
- I’m sure another dog bed I’ve forgo tten about
Each time I came home, Newport greeted me at the door, groveling and apologizing for what her brother had done. I’d find Foxie hiding in a corner, shaking violently in fear and anticipation of punishment. I worried something terrible must have happen ed to him.
Some days I thought someone had physically hurt him. Other days, I wondered if he lived an isolated life and was so fearful of the world because he was never desensiti zed to it.
Whatever the case, he now had a loving home, even if he broke my heart a little when he ate stuff I ca red about.
As time went on, we got into a rhythm. Foxie’s house privileges were given and taken away (see note above on items he’d eaten), but he was folding