Hi, I’m Nugget Rinehart. Mommy bought me used from some nice lady who rescued me from my first owners. They kept my puppies and me crammed in a box in the horse barn. Ah-hem, you just don’t do that to, cough, pedigree princesses like me! I was daddy’s birthday present. When he was a boy, he had a miniature dachshund who looked just like me. I know I am now well loved.
What I don’t know is why mommy can’t write with my chin on her arm. Can’t she type one-handed? Her lap has the best patch of sunshine in the house right now. I’m such a delicate little princess and I shiver so easily, you see. Often, mommy has to force me to go outside just to do my regular, you know, business.
Some days, when she’s feeling especially energetic, she’ll dress me in my lovely faux fur-collar sweater coat and walk me to the corner to meet my sister. The other Bus Stop Mommies coo over me and say I am quite the lady. Lilly asked her mommy why she doesn’t have a pretty coat like mine. When she was a puppy, she got dressed in an old tube sock. You didn’t hear this from me, but I think it has, you know, affected her. Some day I might have to slip Lilly some of mommy’s happy pills. They sure seem to work for her.
Oh! Oh! Dinner time! I used to be so gracious and patient waiting for my meals, but since moving in with Hank, I’ve learned better. Now, when I hear the rattle of crunchy kibbles, I launch into Bullet Mode; speed to the pantry, and take my place next to Hank. We whimper and bow before mommy, waving our front paws high in the air. Then we follow mommy to our separate feeding spots (we haven’t learned to share) stopping midway to spin three circles before running to my dish and slamming on the brakes in, Sit-Look-Cute-and-Shiver position.
After dinner I jump into mommy’s lap and whip my head back until she gets the hint and scoops the one slimy bit of kibble that always gets stuck in-between my gums and cheek. Whew, that feels better. I spin around twice and nestle into a little doughnut while mommy mutters something about doggie dental care, drool rags and canned food.
Hear that? Hank’s at the window barking at a cat two houses away. I bark along, lest my family think I’m not fulfilling my protective duties. Ah, the rewarding smiles I receive as I prance back to a warm lap. What would they do without me? Why are they laughing? What’s so funny? Hey guys….
Karen Rinehart is a syndicated newspaper columnist, public speaker, and creator of The Bus Stop Mommies™. Her book, Invisible Underwear, Bus Stop Mommies and Other Things True To Life, is a popular read in book clubs, school pick up lines, and soccer fields. She enjoys hearing from readers across the States and as far away as Australia, Japan, and England. You can read more at BusStopMommies.com. Karen lives in North Carolina with her two kids, two dogs, and one husband, where they attend St. James Catholic Church. (Well, they leave the dogs at home.)
