I was born into a family with 8 other pups. Most of my life has been spent running around in a hexagonal pen with all my brothers and sisters at Hannah’s Breeders. I ate food, rolled around on the floor, and snuggled with my mom. Then one day, my life changed forever.
I peered out between the checkered cracks of my crate. There was a big metal tube with wings in front of me. All I could hear was a loud whirring which caused my ears to ring. All I wanted was to return to my playpen with the rest of my brothers and sisters. My stomach grumbled. I wanted food.
“Enjoy your flight, buddy,” was the last thing I heard before my vision went dark. I was crammed into this tiny box for what felt like the next decade. I decided sleeping would be the best course of action, so I slept until I woke up to the crate being picked up.
I began to feel scared when the crate wasn’t being put down. I started barking as loud as I could, and whoever was carrying the crate just started shaking me.
I was finally put down, and I heard the roar of another engine. My crate was rattling all over, and the ride was way bumpier than the last one.
What was going to happen to me? I realized that I could end up somewhere horrible, and that I might need to escape this situation right now. My little heart was racing as I began to scratch and yelp at the crate door in front of me. “STOP THAT,” yelled the lady in the front seat. I had no idea what she was saying, so I just decided to keep going.
The next thing I knew the car stopped and my crate was being picked up again. The doors flung open and I came pouncing out sniffing and jumping on everything in my path. Where was my family?
I wasn’t sacred anymore, but instead I was excited to explore the new area. I was inside some house with people I’ve never seen before. They keep calling me Baker for some reason. I haven’t been able to figure it out yet. I try to sniff their butts, but they are all too tall. I can’t get high enough to get a good sniff.
I wander outside and all of them follow me. I squat down to pee and everyone starts yelling.
I run away frightened that the woman next to me might hit me. I run out into the green patch and decide maybe here might be a better place to pee. “GOOD BOY BAKER WHOS A GOOD BOY!” There it was again--Baker. The rest of it was just gibberish.
Months went by, and I finally figured it out. Baker was my name--why had I never known this. I was less terrified with each day that passed. My new family treats me well, but they gave me this new collar with metal spikes in my neck. Whenever I was near the fence it hurts me and I run away. “Maybe I should stay away from the fence.”
And now we are in present day. I love my family, and they give me lots of treats. They keep walking up steps inside and I never know where they go. The kitchen is nice, that’s where I spend most of my days. “Meowwww.” WHAT WAS THAT. I SMELL SOMETHING.