Dog is my copilot.

If you don't know me, that's a shame.  I'm Rose.  Wrigley Rose.  It's a very special day.  I'm 11.

I live in Australia.  I was born in Chicago but I've also lived in San Francisco.  I'm a worldly dog, no doubt.  I've been on a cross-country road trip and on an airplane.

I was adopted at Chicago Canine Rescue.  My adoption story goes like this...

A ticket scalper was selling me with Cubs tickets at Wrigley Field.  I don't know what was the incentive - the tickets or me.  Buy some baseball tickets and get a free dog!?  Buy a dog and get some free Cubs tickets!?

It's very strange indeed.

Nevertheless, the pet store owner across from Wrigley Field called Chicago Canine Rescue and they came to get me.  I was teeny.  Like really teeny.  5 weeks old.  They told the scalper that he had put my life in danger.  I wasn't old enough to be weaned.

So he gave (sold?) me to the rescue place and the next day I met mama.  She was working at one of the Chicago neighborhood festivals and the rescue place had a booth.

She was very lucky that day because I was too small to be left home alone so they had to bring me to the festival.  She was also lucky because she got to the festival before the doors opened (meaning she beat the other 20,000 people who wanted to adopt me).

Like I said, she was very lucky that day.

Mama says she remembers I fell asleep on her shoe.  She could hold me in one hand.  I was a little ball of black fluff.  She says I had the same personality I have now.  I was cute and adorable, but I was independent.  I liked cuddling up with you.  But I didn't need to cuddle up with you.

When mama adopted me they told her I was too small to go home with her right away.  That made mama sad.  They kept me for a couple weeks and fed me from a bottle.  They made sure I did not die.  

So big surprise, I did not die!  

And I turned into such a little terror.  

I looked like this:

Um, yeah.  I was cute.

There are my 'baby pictures' - 8 weeks old.  

 I super-loved by frisbee.

 I super-loved my teddy.

 I super-loved my rope.

 I super loved my chew.

I super-loved my Kong.


I super-loved my Uncle Aaron.

I super-loved destroying the yard.  

(This is my, "What, me?" face.  My "I would never do aaaaannnnything wrong" face.)

I still use it a super-lot.

I super-loved my mama.

My mama loved me back but she did not love how I ate everything. My speciality was wood furniture, Apple computer cords and carpets.  Mmmm.  Love me some carpet.

Mama was losing her mind.  She did not have a lot of money and I was a money-eating machine!  So she got this bitter apple spray and she started squirting it on everything.

At first I didn't like it.  And then I did.  

Bitter apple bookshelf became my favorite delicacy. 

Then she got the bright idea to put Tabasco sauce on everything.  Like everything.  Even her ankles.  I loved eating ankles.  I could eat ankles under jeans.  I especially liked to eat ankles under swishing skirts.  

I had sharp little shark's teeth.  

I knew these were bad things, but I couldn't help myself.  

When I did 'bad things', mama would put me in 'the cage'.  That sounds scary, right?  Like really scary!  The cage.

Mama would say, "Do you want to go in the cage?"  

My head would turn as the question registered in my brain - and it would click.  No, I do not want to go in the cage!!!!  I will be good.  I will be good.  I will be good.

This is the cage:

And that's me in it.  

Mama wants me to point out that you can see it's not a torture chamber.  She would put me in it with my teddy and my blankey and she'd set the timer.  That was my 'time out'.

In hindsight she says she should have named it 'the crate', but I didn't know the difference.  And - over time - I learned to stop doing bad things - like eating electrical cords or making people bleed.

I taught mama lots of things.  I taught her that dogs were afraid of cats but we liked to eat their poo.  That we liked to sleep on the bed but if you left us there goose down feathers would soon be floating in the air.

Courtesy of Shit My Pets Ruined :) 

I taught mama to add water to my food.  Otherwise I'd do it myself.

(I've done this since I was a teeny baby.)

I loved being alive.  I was so happy to have a family who loved me (gave me treats).  And I still am.  Since it's my big day, let's talk more about me...

I love EATING.

There are no pictures of me eating because it happens in a flash before your eyes.  But just know - I really love eating.

I love riding in the car.

Roll down the window, please.

Let's go!

I love to go to the beach.

(This is my very first day at the beach ever.  I may have taken a dump in the water.)

Here's a video of me at the beach...

I love my rope.

  Then

Now

I play with my rope every night before I go to sleep.  Sometimes I get so excited that I hump the rope which horrifies mama.  But I have to show it who's boss.

I love begging.

Whatever you are eating, give. it. to. me.

I love listening.

Huh?

What?

Did you say something?

I love frolicking.

I love a stick.

I love layin' in your warm spot.

I love a tennis ball.

I love being wrapped up.

I'm sweepy.

Especially after a beach day...

Before my ear flipped up, I was 'Bebe".

I love this guy.

And this gal.

Courtesy of Calley.

And these people...

Aunt Susie, Khaner & Deegan are my favorites.  Mommy misses them too.

I love Australia.

Pic courtesy of Rachel.

 Pic courtesy of Rachel.

Pic courtesy of Rachel.

 Pic courtesy of Rachel.

I love hanging out with you.

I look pretty dang near perfect in these photos.  Mama, on the other hand, has had too much wine.

Now for what I don't like...

I hate a haircut.

 Save me.

I hate being at Google.

 This blows.

I hate your dress-up games.

You blow.

Cut it out.

Carolina girl

Snow bunny

Enjoying my first Summer Christmas 

Chrissy pic, courtesy of Calley.

I hate a bath.

I hate you.

I hate quarantine.

Sad face.

I hate garden gnomes.

Santa looks like a gnome.

I hate bein' hurt.

 Poor me.

I hate being woken up in the middle of a REM cycle.

:)

My nickname is Bunny cuz I have a 'bunny ear'.  

Now, I haven't always had one.  My ear sat just fine when I was a puppy.

See - two flat ears.

But over time, I turned into a bunny.  

 Pic courtesy of Calley.

The bunny e(ar)volution:

I have a big, important job.  I make people smile.

I'm also a nurse to my mama when she's sick.  I'm like a soothing hot water bottle.  A live teddy bear.

 

And I always know the right thing to say which is nothing.

Happy 11th birthday, Bunny Luv!

And Happy Mother's Day, Grandma - I miss you!

xo