Gather 'round, dear pups and kitty-cats. It's me, Stormy, with a story to tell you.
It was 13 years ago - a dark and stormy day - a day much like today. There was a sense of change in the air, the wind was kicking up, and a Kansas storm was blowing in across the prairie.
It was a dark and stormy day...
Have you heard this one before? Because it was also a dark and Stormy day. That's right - it's my Storm-aversary!!! My Gotcha Day! Adopt-a-Storm Day!!! We have a lot of new readers, so I'm going to re-post the story of my adoption. You might want to grab a snack and a bowl of water.
By late 1996, I had been on the road a long, long time. I won't tell anyone where I came from, but I was picked up by the local Animal Control people and landed in the slammer. (The same one Zim and Dave did stints in, but at a different time.) I had been on the road so long, my paws were bloody. That's a lot of time and a lot of miles. Yes, that means I'm a Roads Scholar. (Ha roo roo roo to those of you who get the pun!) I was adopted from there by a couple who had a rather unfriendly, large, powerful dog who did not care for me. Neither one of us got any exercise ... and that's just torture for pups - especially large ones and especially Siberian Huskies! That made a bad situation worse.
This next part still chokes me up...
By March (1997), the people gave up on me and tried to return me to the shelter. The people there said they couldn't take "returns" and would have had to euthanize me! They pleaded with the people (God bless them!) to please just try placing an ad in the local paper - just one ad! Please?!? Fortunately for me, they agreed - and even more fortunately for me, my dad just happened to be perusing the paper that fateful morning!
Mom made the call - the only one those people got! - and she and Dad drove out to get me. They came into the house and the man there held my collar tight, like I was an attack dog or something. I wriggled free and threw myself at the man I knew would be my new dad. "Let's get out of here!" I gave my future mom my best "Harp Seal Look" even though I was fairly sure I'd won her over already. They told the people they wanted me (me! someone wanted ME!) and we were on our way. The lady followed us out of the house and my new mom asked me if I would like to go potty before we headed home. The other lady said, "Oh, I just had her out." Yeah, right. I shot her a look, then went potty for a long, long potty time. We got in the car and never looked back!
On the way home, we talked about a name. The other people had called me "Storm". My new parents were going to change my name, mostly so I'd get a fresh start, but as we drove onto Fort Riley, the military installation where we lived, a Kansas storm was blowing in. A detail of soldiers was lowering the American flag at post headquarters and was putting up a "storm" flag -- a smaller, tougher version. Ha ROO! Mom and Dad took it as a sign that the name fit, but softened it a bit by mostly calling me Stormy! Now I go by either one - or Storms. I was about one and a half years old when I came home.
Many of you have seen this before, but here's an early picture of me with my great-brother Booter ('87-01).
Happy Adopt-a-Stormy Day, Stormy!
Thanks, Dave!
Ammy and I posed for a few photos:
Ammy, let's do our 'tough girl' looks!
Got it, Storm!
(Disclaimer: Mom had really tasty treats for us and we were tired from our walks, otherwise we would not have sat and looked in the general direction of the camera!)
And later this afternoon, Zim and I will walk Mom a bit more. This is from the other day; we were looking for our kitty-cat friends!
Do you see anycat, Storm?
Not yet, Zim.
A day spent with my loving family, going on walks, getting treats, taking a few cat-naps... what could be better?!? Celebrate with us, dear friends! And try to do something special each and every day!
Tail wags,
Storms
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