City Dog, Country Dog: Corgi Mix Bart of New Jersey

 

 

I used to be a city dog. East Village, if you must know. (New York City). Before the days of my forest fraps. When I came to live with the folks as a rescue by way of the Cardigan Welsh Corgi National Rescue Trust, they already had another dog. Mom adopted Ellie, a Corgi/Pit Bull mix, from a pound in Florida at six months old. Though she had long legs and a tail, her face and ears were very Corgi. I can get behind that!

 

Mom says Ellie was her “heart dog”. Not sure quite what that means, when it’s obvious to me I own all of her — Dad too — but Ellie was good company. Being left alone while they went to work was SO not my thing, and having her around helped. We didn’t play much and she was (if you ask me) way too serious about protecting her vittles.

A few months after I came along, the cancer in Ellie’s neck returned and Mom had to send her little girl to the Bridge. It was very tough times for all of us. She says if she didn’t have me, grieving for Ellie would have been a hundred times harder, that I helped her heal and made her heart bigger.

 

 

Yep, I took their mind off of things. Gave them distractions, made sure they got plenty of couch time. I had everything under control. Including Dad (and did I mention he’s my BFF? We do things together Mom can’t watch, because you know … she’s a girl and all).

After Ellie left us, I’ll admit that too much time alone made me nervous. Mom and Dad figured I calmed down after they left for work, but I barked. All day. Non-stop. No easy feat! And the  neighbors barked back, leaving love notes on our door.

Well all that fun comes at a price. Paying for my camp on top of big city rents cost a whole lotta biscuits, and after some jawing back and forth we decided to pack up our city life and move to the country. Dad is originally from north New Jersey, so we found a perfect spot out in the middle of an enchanted forest where I can run and play and bark my head off without bothering a soul.

 

I love my forest! We love our new life! My parents focused more on me and really got to know the dog I truly am: a funny boy who “kills” squeaky toys, snorts when he’s excited or frustrated (you can tell a lot from my snorts, naturally), and hangs out with big blondes like the neighbor’s yellow Lab Gabby. She’s kind of a looker.

I enjoy herding the deer that live in the woods and would like to get my paws on the wild turkeys too. There’s a spot on the corner of the couch where I wait and watch for his Dad to come home from work everyday. It’s my very own official Dad Watching Spot.

How can I argue with that? (Well, the little part maybe).

I’m going to become a big brother in June. They keep telling me about the baby, but I’m not convinced yet. If the kid doesn’t steal my spot on their bed, I might just be a great, overprotective big brother. So long as they tuck us both in every night with lots of kisses, I think everything will be A-OK!

 

UPDATE:  Since this post was originally published in March, 2013, Bart’s baby brother was born. Check out the family resemblance!