i love my owner, going out for walks at the beach with my sweaters because i get col and my roomie Paris who was recently diagnosed with canine adhd which explaina a lot!
I'd like to meet:
thinkerbell so i can bite her tail, stupid skinny celebrities making us have low self esteem because we can't be toted around in Louis Vuitton doggie carriers or have celebrity owners, and i love eating, i only wigh 5.2 lbs but still she must weigh like 2 lbs.I would also like to meet chi's in cali that wanna go for walks and anyone who wants to be my friend
Music:
I love classical and Paris and I run around in circles trying to make our own little mosh pits when we listen to punk rock.
Movies:
this is my mommyJust this side of heaven is a place called Rainbow Bridge.When an animal dies that has been especially close to someone here, that pet goes to Rainbow Bridge. There are meadows and hills for all of our special friends so they can run and play together. There is plenty of food, water and sunshine, and our friends are warm and comfortable.All the animals who had been ill and old are restored to health and vigor. Those who were hurt or maimed are made whole and strong again, just as we remember them in our dreams of days and times gone by. The animals are happy and content, except for one small thing; they each miss someone very special to them, who had to be left behind.They all run and play together, but the day comes when one suddenly stops and looks into the distance. His bright eyes are intent. His eager body quivers. Suddenly he begins to run from the group, flying over the green grass, his legs carrying him faster and faster.You have been spotted, and when you and your special friend finally meet, you cling together in joyous reunion, never to be parted again. The happy kisses rain upon your face; your hands again caress the beloved head, and you look once more into the trusting eyes of your pet, so long gone from your life but never absent from your heart.Then you cross Rainbow Bridge together
Television:
I dont watch much tv i sit and stare at my mommy until she caves and takes us out for a walk, Paris on the othere hand even stares at the screen when there is nothing on lol
Books:
Author Message
DaniellleF/22
FRIENDSWOOD,
TEXASInstant Message
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Posted: Dec 31, 2005 1:38 PM
A Prisoner of War
By Teresa Maro Rozich ([email protected])
May 1998I huddle inside my small cage.
I can barely stand, it's so small, but that is ok,
because the wires of the floor cut into my bare feet when I do.
My skin is raw, and cut, where I've had to lay so uncomfortably
for hours on end, days without end, years that go on forever.
My body offers no comfort, as it's thin, and boney.I have no bed on which to lay my body.
No blanket to cover me when I'm cold.
No furniture on which to sit.
No private place to do my "business".
No friends to call my own.
I am in Solitary Confinement,
with only myself for company.My fellow "prisoners" can't help me,
for they too are in total misery.
Their lives are no better than my own.
I often hear their cries in the night.
Cries of pain, cries of sadness, cries of loneliness.I am hungry, and sick, but my captors don't really care.
I receive no medical attention, as I'm not considered
important in the entire scheme of things.My children give me a few moments of joy,
But they are taken too early, leaving my breasts filled with milk.
I know a different kind of pain now.
The pain of love lost.
The pain of true misery.My stomach has stopped growling.
It's way beyond that, as I sit here with the pain.
Yesterday I Vomited blood, as my stomach began to turn on itself.
Today I saw hair falling out by handfuls.
What had been beautiful golden hair is now gone.
Part of me wonders if maybe it will be over soon.I sit day in and day out, staring into space.
I have no family to remember to give me strength.
I know of no God to worship in times of fear.
I have no love to remember in times of pain.
I have no hope.I have no hope,
For I am a prisoner of Cruelty.
A prisoner of Pain.
A prisoner of Greed.
A prisoner of War.For I am a prisoner of a Puppy mill.
poem not by me
