A Million Kisses by Cece Lodico - Children's Stories Net

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  A Million Kisses
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Who could give away a baby? Someone did. On Christmas Eve no less!
This is my story of how I bounced from one awful place to the next until I was rescued and taken to the best place on earth.

Suddenly I was snatched from my mother, taken from the only home I had known, uprooted like a weed.
A mere baby. I remember snuggling with her and my brothers and sisters and then not.
A new home.
At first, life was good, I got food, attention, a place to sleep, plus toys. I grew and explored my world daily. Unfortunately, eventually, the good times stopped.
Maybe I was too active or inquisitive, since I poked my nose into everything.
Maybe I slept too much or pooped too much.
A dark wooden fence surrounded the outside, so I couldn't see much.
To relieve my boredom, I pulled on anything within my reach.
Before long I got food and water, but that was pretty much it. My hair didn't get brushed; I didn't get bathed.
Then the most terrible thing occurred.
The Person forced me into a large metal container with wheels.
I had never been in there before; I trembled uncontrollably.
The Person walked me to a building while the rain poured on that dark Christmas Eve.
I guess The Person didn't appreciate the fact that I had chewed on a bunch of boxes under that great smelling tree.
Why else would I be here dumped off with total Strangers?
I discovered others like me, abandoned or taken from their mothers.
Some looked younger and some older, they had hair of all colours—blond, black, brown, red.
Most of them whimpered. None of us had a lot of space.
We slept on hard, uncomfortable beds, and sometimes the place really smelled awful.
Every day people came to check us out, and sometimes they chose one of the abandoned.
I had no idea what happened to them. Did one of the Strangers do away with them?
Those thoughts made me shudder; I could barely eat for fear of what would happen next.
We numbered so many that the Strangers limited their time to hold or play with us.
Therefore I had a lot of time to think, so I tried to figure out how to get out of there.
Then a woman came and liberated me from that dismal place.
She took me to her doctor who examined me from head to toe and declared me healthy.
Surely this woman would take me home. Instead, she deserted me at this new place.
Most of the creatures were ill with bandages on their legs or ears or heads. The crying, the odour of dried blood from wounds, the aroma of medicines and other stenches made it difficult to rest.
Meanwhile a couple had lost their dog Crooner, only four months prior.
Crooner was a retriever; handsome, gracious and regal.
The Couple discovered a dog available, me!
This Woman believed that when a person or pet dies, its spirit returns to the Universe as energy.
This Woman 'talked' to the spirit of Crooner.
She asked his advice about getting another dog while still mired in grief, but she received no answer.
This Woman travelled to see me.
Upon arrival, she called the doctor's office where I remained a hostage. She listened to music while on hold. Incredible!! Unbelievable!!! Of all the millions of songs in the whole world, what she heard at that very moment was the voice of Frank Sinatra, one of several famous singers from a long time ago who were known as 'crooners.'
Could this be the answer from the spirit of Crooner? Could she do this? Should she?
I watched This Woman carefully.
I hoped she didn't notice my straggly, dirty hair, my raggedy ears, or that I needed to lose five pounds (2+ kg). Handsome, gracious or regal—not me. Frankly, I was a mess. I had to think fast! I wasn't going to blow this chance.
I displayed my best-ever behaviour in order to escape those clinical confines.
She realised I possessed a sweet disposition and that I had the potential to be a marvellous dog.
Off I went with her!!
Her brand-new house smelled great. No fence and lots of windows to view everything happening outside.
What a difference compared to those other places!
But I had a problem, I didn't know how to tell her when I needed to go.
I pooped on her fuzzy, brand new, light yellow carpet.
There they lay, brown, steaming logs!
I pictured myself hauled out of there to-who-knows-where-next.
The woman put her winter coat and boots on several times a day and took me out until we got this pee and poop routine nailed.
I had no manners and knew no commands.
I threw up in her metal container on wheels, because I assumed, she intended to take me to another bad place.
But we went only to fun places.
She taught me all kinds of commands and behaviours until my brain resembled soggy kibble.
I tried to drag her down the street, but she wouldn't let me. She insisted I behave like a gentleman.
I'm not gracious or regal, but I'm handsome and smart.
I live in a pine-tree forest where I relax in the summer on a warm wooden deck to see, hear, and smell squirrels, deer, chipmunks, birds, and skunks.
I get to frolic in the winter snow.
She named me Nero, which is Italian for black. She calls me Nero the Hero, because I survived all that bad stuff.
I bet she's kissed me at least a million times.
She still gets teary-eyed when she talks about Crooner's spirit sending her his answer from the Universe.

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