I'm working very hard

Foster mom said it's time to update the blob again, as it's been a few weeks. We've been really busy here at my foster home. My foster parents have taken in 2 temporary foster bros. One went to the nice doggie prison (foster mom says it's not nice to call it that, and that its official name is the Humane Society of Indianapolis) on Sunday, after being here for a week and a half, and the other came in last night. They were both found with different injuries, and foster mom said that we're lucky that I'm such a good girl, and no trouble, so they can focus on helping a few other dogs for a few days.

Anyway, everyone knows I'm a little shy, especially with meeting new people and having them touch me. I'll take a treat from anyone, I love treats! Foster mom talked to the nice lady who came to do some sort of a thing called a temperament test on me (I guess to see if I had a temper? I most certainly did not) suggested to have people feed me treats and reach to pet my head at the same time, so I understand that treats = nice pets from people. This seems to be pretty easy so far, because I love treats soooo much!

Foster mom's sister came over the other day and we worked on this together. I'd met her a few times before, so she wasn't a total stranger (and I remembered her, as she gave me lots of treats and even fed me some of her lunch!), but foster mom said we should practice. I did a really good job. After a minute or two, I was dying to crawl in her lap and see what else she might have for me. I ended up on the couch with her, and she scratched a hard to reach place on my back, which was pretty excellent. Foster mom says I still need a lot of practice with this, so that I understand that being pet is a good thing, but I think I'll get there.

Other dogs

Foster mom says it's time to update the blobbity blob. This past Saturday we went on a walk. This wasn't like any other walk, we went on a group walk, with some of foster mom's friends from Indy Pit Crew and the Humane Society of Indianapolis. This walk was to raise money for Macey, one of the dogs at the Humane Society of Indianapolis doggie jail, to get new knees or something. Apparently she has problems walking and needs a knee transplant or something like that, according to my foster mom.

Anyway, back to me. There were about 15 other dogs at this walk, and foster mom made me be polite and greet all of them. She was really proud of me, because I was a very nice gal, and was very friendly to one and all. She laughed when one of the pups wanted to jump me and play, and I just stood there patiently. I don't know why she was so "proud," I don't have a problem with dogs. I prefer them to people sometimes, because they "get" me, and know when I want to play and know when I want some space. For some reason, people just see me and immediately want to put their hands all over me. I. Don't. Get. It. Foster mom says I'm doing better, and if she tricks them into giving me a few treats first, and letting me sniff them until I'm assured they don't stink or have any tricks up their sleeve, we usually don't have any problems.

So there you have it, I enjoy walking, and meeting dogs. People- lets just say I'm working on it. Here are some pictures of me being all cute at the walk, and some of my new friends.

Lets talk adoption

Foster mom says it's time to blob again, especially since it's chilly and overcast outside (which she knows is where I'd rather be). She said I need to let my fans know what kind of forever home would be best suited for me. Personally, I like it here, but my foster mom and dad have a lot of their own "kids," and aren't in a position to move to a place with a lot of land for us pitties to rampage for a couple years.

Anyway, back to me. We'll start with the basics. Since I love to play outside, I'll definitely need a place with a yard and a big, sturdy fence. A girl likes her privacy, so I prefer a 6ft privacy fence. But don't get it twisted, I need to live inside with the 2 legged people. No outdoor living for this lady. Also, since I'm kind of people shy, until I really get to know you, it's probably best that I have an adoptive family who really knows about my breed and has a lot of experience with dogs (shy and mistreated ones a plus), who can help me to trust again. I'm really just a big lover, but my bark is deep and if I'm uncomfortable, you might hear it.

At that vet place where I got my inner lady parts removed and all fixed up, I hung out with Dr. Cathy's daughter, and she was pretty cool. She knew how to give me my space, which I really appreciated. If all of the smaller 2 legged kind were like that, I'd probably be a fan of them too, but since I'm quite shy, it's better for me if any small 2 legged humans live in my adoptive home, that they're a little bit older. This way they can really understand my needs and when I'm scared at first, and not take it personally if I don't want to lick their faces right away. I promise that will come later (again, especially if they have treats).

Foster mom says I'm pretty easy going, though this is probably my first time living in a thing called a house. At first some of the sounds confused me, but I'm getting the hang of it. I even know to bark when the doorbell rings! Now, lets talk about this "crating" business. I have a crate, I know how to stay in the crate, and I will do so, but if I'm being honest, I don't prefer this. I know, my foster mom and dad sometimes have to go to things called work, school and to run errands (the last one was explained to me by bringing me home more TREATS!), but really I don't see why I can't just go too. ::sad face:: But if I must, I'll eventually stop protesting and go to sleep. These wonderful things called peanut butter Kongs (or really, I'd take the whole tub of peanut butter) keep me distracted from being away from foster mom and dad. Because really, my stupid ol' crate does keep me safe while they're gone, as well as my foster bro and sisters, my kitty friends and foster mom and dad's house.

I'm really good at pottying outside in my yard. Sometimes, if I'm in that dang crate for too long, I can't hold it and might have an accident. You'll have to forgive me, having all those puppies stomp around on my bladder for so long probably didn't help me to have a bladder of steel. I'm still trying to get the hang of telepathy with my foster folks to let them know I might have to go out to go potty if they haven't let me out in awhile. Usually they realize after I have an occasional accident that my sniffing around the floor was me trying to tell them!

So, lets review. My list of demands includes a yard with a big 'ol fence to keep me safe, understanding humans who will work with me on my shyness and let me love them forever (and if kids are included in that package, older ones who really "get me"), a crate for when my humans can't be snuggling with me, a KONG to go in that crate, peanut butter x infinity for that Kong, and lots of looooooooove. Because like I said, I really am such a snugglebutt.

Side by side comparison

Here's what I looked like at the dirty jail place, and here's what I look like now. I've put on 7lbs, and had several much needed baths. A special shout out to all the great folks who helped me make it out of that place, and who made it possible to be at my foster mom and dad's!

My foster bro Spike

I love me some Spike. He's got about 10lbs on me (foster mom says that a few of those he could give to me), but we play and wrestle like crazy. I can take him down too, I'm not scurred. He's actually pretty cuddly too, so I like to sleep next to him. Sometimes foster mom gets mad at me because in the morning I like to put my paws on his face so he'll wake up and play. Plus, she needs to feed me, hello!

My foster parents have this thing called a yard, and it's pretty neat. When I first came here, about 5 weeks ago, it was covered with all this white stuff and I really just wanted to run out, do my business and come back in. But now, it's green and warm and there are balls and other toys I can chase and chew on, other than Spike. It's pretty fun to be out there. I like to run really fast from one end to the other, with my butt tucked under my body. Foster mom laughs really loud at me and calls them "zoomies." I'm just feeling good, what does she know?

Here's some pics of me and my boy Spike.

My first post

Hi y'all, I'm sorta new to this whole blob thing, but my foster mom thinks it might help get me something called exposure. I don't know, I'm really just waiting for her to realize it's almost time to feed me again.

My name is Bella, but I have many nicknames, and really the only time I hear "Bella" is when my foster mom is calling me to come see her. She thinks she has to sound all formal, using my name and the word "come" afterward, in a high, silly voice. She clearly hasn't figured me out yet. She could call me Fart Knocker and I'd come running, because there's almost always some sort of food in it for me. Lately my foster people have taken to calling me all kinds of weird things- Blue Bear, Blueberry, Blue Zoomer, Zoomer, Zoomie, Blue Baby. Whatever works for them I guess.

The first part of my 4 years didn't have the best start, but I've mostly forgotten all about that. I've got it pretty good here. Supposedly my foster sisters and brother don't get the same couch and bed privileges that I do, neener. In fact, I have heard my people refer to me as spoiled lately. Whatevs. Before I came here, I ended up in a dirty jail-like place a few hours from here. Apparently the place had an interesting history, as this legendary performer grew up there (my foster mom gets up and starts flailing about when she hears his music), and apparently her dad is from there as well. Me, I didn't have much fun there, as it's not a very nice place to live nowadays. The people called "vets" and my people think that I might have been used as some sort of chew toy for dogs that were bigger than me. I know these dogs didn't want to use me to chomp on, but their people were pretty shady and thought it'd be a good idea. Sadly, the hostile takeover some of us 4-legged folks mulled over for these shady people never happened, well, because we like people too much. But I digress. Those same shady peeps liked me for my stunning good looks and decided they wanted to make more of me, so I had lots and lots and lots of babies. I was a good mommy and loved my puppies, but man, what's a girl gotta do to get an identity of her own, ya know? I'm much more than just a pretty faced mommy. ::flips head::

Luckily for me, some great folks decided that I looked so pathetic or pretty or something to be kept in that dirty jail place for too long. Did you know that they take some of the other dogs and cats to a room in the back and they don't come out? ::shudder:: I'm just glad I got the heck out of that place pretty quickly. A really nice lady named Sherry came and scooped me up and took me to that vet place, to meet another really nice lady named Dr. Cathy. She got me all fixed up and told me I'd never have to be a mommy ever again, let alone "just another pretty faced one." I've got other goals in life. Like Reba said "Is there life out there?"

I guess I was pretty popular at the vet place, because I had several visitors. Among my favorite was a lady named Becky. She wanted to take me home and love me forever herself, but where she lived has some BS laws or something like that, so she couldn't. But she picked me up after a few days with Dr. Cathy and her people and took me to meet my foster dad (foster mom was out of town, so she sent the next best thing to pick me up). At first my foster dad scared me, because he yell screamed and was really excited to see me and just wanted to hug and kiss the crap out of me, and I was NOT having it. I let him know to give a sister some space, and he did, and then proceeded to win me over with treats. I decided he wasn't too bad, and let him take me home and once he let me up on the bed with him, and was an "all you can eat treat buffet," he quickly became my favorite person EVAR. My foster mom still gives him a hard time about me being a Daddy's girl. They're silly, they're both my favorite.

So, here I am. My foster parents keep telling me what a lover I am (duh), and how they wish they could keep me. Personally, I think they're kidding themselves if they think I'm going to let them get rid of me, but we'll see what happens. I'm still not a huge fan of people petting me upon first meeting (how would they like it if I just walked up to them off the street and asked if I could touch their hair?!), but I'm working on it. As long as they let me sniff them to my liking and I feel ok that they're not going to try and make other dogs use me as a chew toy or do anything sketchy to me, I'm usually fine with it. Especially if they have treats. What can I say, I love treats!