Hi, there! CindyLu here, and I’m glad you’re interested in getting to know us!
Let me see here…well, I guess I’ll just give you a rundown, and you can let me know if I’ve forgotten anything (I’ll surely hear from The Others!) or if you have questions.
First, and of course most important, is MOI… CindyLu. aka CindyLuHoo. aka Princess, Diva, BossLady.
I was born the smallest (read “dainty”!) of the litter. My heritage goes back to the countries of Shih Tzu and Yorkshire, but I was born here so I consider myself a full-blooded American Pup. When I first came to this family here, they were a mess. They seriously needed some major reorganization and priority-setting. It wasn’t long before I was hard at work, taking on this gigantic task. No problem, I was up to the challenge. I think I have been quite successful, if I say so myself.
The family has learned that there must be one voice to listen to, one party who reigns over all others. Moi. I rule not with an iron fist, however; I prefer to attempt peaceful negotiations, with shared rewards. You listen to me, I’ll leave you alone. If you don’t, if you dare to counter my authority, I’ll be all over you like fleas on a stray cat. And of course my rewards are being given the treatment (and the treats) that only a girl like myself deserves.
I love to talk, love to make new friends, love to have fun. I also don’t mind adoration and praise; it’s only fitting, after all.
Next up, another pooch – Chester. No, really – he’s a dog, not a horse. Don’t worry, I made that mistake too.
Chester’s ancestors, from best guess, came out of Germany and Labrador. He’s a rescue; poor guy sat around hoping to have a home, then the rescue group was going to euthanize him and a few others if no one adopted them soon. A new rescue group started up from the uproar over this, and they took him. Mom and the kids got to know these rescue people, and of course ended up taking him home one day. He behaved really well and gave them lots of kisses. So they adopted him. Suckers.
He’s really my big brother, even though we’re technically not related. Ever since I was a baby, he’s protected me and watched over me, even licks my face clean. He’s also great for horsing around, and I love it when I can get him all riled up and then Mom scolds him. BOL! But I gotta hand it to him, he’s been really great to me ever since the beginning. He’s even great with the cats. I play with him, but I don’t sleep with him – he snores.
Chester’s pretty cool, he can do a bunch of tricks, and he’s really smart, too; I don’t think the humans realize just how much he knows. He and I laugh about it sometimes – the joke’s on them!
Then there are the cats…the first one who came to live here is Chandler.
Chandler found his way to this house by some mysterious method. All anyone knows is that he was only a tiny kitten, with a collar but no tags on him. And he was stuck in the frontyard tree. Seriously, stuck. It turned out he had a serious affliction, tree-climbitis.
His family roots go back to Maine, judging by his obvious coon looks. He’s really small, though, to be a coon, so who knows. And who cares! He’s the coolest of cool cats. Mom calls him Gandhi, cause he is such a peaceful guy.
I feel a bit bad for him, though, he sounds like such a girl when he talks. Not exactly Mr. Macho.
The house was turned upside-down and inside-out when Rascal came.
All I have to say is, WHAT WERE THESE PEOPLE THINKING??? Why on earth would they actually choose to adopt him? It’s beyond me.
Rascal’s family history is really a mystery; he was found as a lone little kitten (probably a smart mom kicked him out of the litter!) and he looks kinda like a Nebelung . But no one knows, and he’s probably just an alien. DO NOT tell him I said that, he will not go easy on me!
Anyway, he started out as a foster, then eventually adopted the family. Rascal keeps everyone on their toes here, gets a kick out of terrorizing (he even gets Chester backed into a corner sometimes), and he’s a big suck-up with Mom. He’s all lovey-dovey and all that, I don’t know how she doesn’t see through it all.
If there were only one thing for Bo to say if he could talk, it would probably be “Dave’s not here, man”.
Ahh…Bo. Poor guy, he was out wandering the streets, who knows for how long, before he was found. He was sick, emaciated, and what probably bothered him the most was how lonely it is out there in the big, bad world!
Mom brought him home as a foster. Right. Everyone teased her about how she’d be adopting him, and of course she was stubborn that she’d find him a good home. Well, he has one now. BOL.
Bo is a super easygoing guy, he likes to snooze in beds, eat his crunchy treats, and snuggle with the humans. If there was one thing I could say to him, it would probably be “Dude, lay off the catnip, man!”
So those are my brothers, and we’re all a team. I make sure everyone tows the line, and my brothers are my understudies. We include the foster-sisters in with our plans; they might not be here forever, but they’re here now and they’re important, too.
And then there’s my Mom, who is my secretary and Main Servant. Along with her are the four Kids, although they’re not home much these days. I suspect that Mom sneaks on the computer and writes things while I’m snoozing; she can be sneaky that way.
I give her credit for taking care of all of my business needs, but she’s still in training on the personal ones. Baby steps.
Welcome to my family!