So today is Winni's birthday. Actually, it's my best guess as to Winni's birthday. She came to live with me on July 1, 2003 and the vet said she was about one, so we decided on an Independence Day birthday. That makes her six and means that she's been with me for five years. She's had a great year, what with a new sister, an upgraded leg and a trimmer waist.She does love sticks, so that's what she got for her birthday. A stick all of her own, and some alone time to chew on it on the front porch.
The story of how she came to live with me is below. If you don't know the story, it's a good one. She wrote it herself and wanted it posted, so there you have it. It's long, so settle in. Y'all have a good 4th!
(Winni asked me to read this over. My comments are in parentheses.)
My name is Winnie. The girl monkey (that’s what she calls humans) left her computer on so I thought that I would tell you my story.
The monkeys I used to live with were not very nice to me, but they did one very kind thing that you might think was not very kind. They abandoned me. They put me in their fast-scary-thing (that would be a car), drove me to the front gate of Camp Winnataska, and told me to stay. And I did.
I hadn’t been there long when a silver fast-scary-thing with two very pretty monkeys (aw…thanks) drove by. They didn’t stop, nor did the other 10 or 15 fast-scary-things that came by that Sunday morning. Soon, I was alone again in the grass and gravel by the gate of Camp Winnataska, very confused and a little scared.
Soon it got hot and before long, the silver fast-scary-thing with the two very pretty monkeys drove by again. This time she stopped. She played with me for a minute and then the chocolate headed monkey (that would be me) talked to the yellow headed monkey (that would be my room-mate, Karen). I didn’t understand it very well but it was something about isn’t that sad, and maybe whoever left her will come back, and but we’re on the way back to the lake. Anyway, they went away again and I was once again alone in the grass and gravel by the gate of Camp Winnataska, very confused and a little scared.
But not as scared as I was going to be. Soon it got dark, and then it started to rain, but the monkeys that dropped me off told me to stay, so I did. Some of the monkeys from the Camp brought me some food and water and played with me so I wasn’t too lonely, but since I was told to stay, I did.
After staying in the rain and getting very muddy on Monday I was very confused. Were the mean monkeys coming to get me? Were the pretty monkeys going to come back? Were the camp monkeys going to come and play?
It was almost dark when a blue fast-scary-thing (Karen’s brand new Jetta) came down the camp road. It was the pretty monkeys! Yea! They will stop and play with me again. But they didn’t. The chocolate-headed one started crying when she saw me. Later when they were leaving, she was crying again and said something about new car, muddy, tomorrow, Seth, truck, Winni. I thought that that meant something good so I wasn’t too upset. It was very hard to sleep with the rain and the confusion of what the monkeys said, but I did my best.
Tuesday morning lots and lots of fast-scary-things came by, but didn’t even stop. (It was the last day of camp so all the kids were going home.) They came and went with barely a glance at me, shivering and muddy, by the side of the road alone in the grass and gravel by the gate of Camp Winnataska, very confused and a little scared.
But at last, a very nice fast-scary-thing stopped. A monkey called Debbie and her puppie-monkey (daughter) named Erin put me in the back of their fast-scary-thing. I felt bad for getting the cow-pillow dirty, (that’s what she said that leather smells like, don’t ask me) but at least I wasn’t getting rained on. Now, I may be a dog but I didn’t think that this was what the pretty monkeys from the night before were talking about, but since Debbie-monkey and Erin-monkey kept calling me Winni, I thought that it must be part of the plan.
They dropped me off at a place with lots of dogs and cats in cages and monkeys in masks (she means the vet’s office) and I was overwhelmed. The monkey in a mask looked at me with lots of stuff and said something about a fection, tapes, and lots of other big words. (She had an infection and worms, but medication cleared them up). I stayed there all day, wondering what would happen and then I heard my name. They put me on a rope and took me out to another room and guess what…the chocolate-headed monkey was there. HOORAY!!! She was so happy that she was crying.
We got into her silver fast-scary-thing and went to her house. It took me a while to get used to being inside and a few days to realize that the squeeky thing and the rope were what the monkeys call toys for me. I hadn’t ever had those before. Sometimes we just lie on the sofa and look at people in a box (that’s a TV). The Elin-monkey loves me very much and I love her too. I give her kisses and smile at her when we go on walks. I’m home, and I sure love it!
(Let me fill you in from my side here. I called Kidd animal clinic where mom’s dog Merlin goes, on Tuesday morning and told them that Seth was bringing in a stray that I was going to name Winni and to look her over and I would pick her up on my way home from work. Seth called me from camp and said that after an hour of looking, they couldn’t find the dog anywhere. I called to cancel the vet appointment and the receptionist told me that one of her littermates was just dropped off, and the family that dropped her off, named her Winni as well. To which I replied, there were no littermates, only MY Winni. I was in tears so the receptionist gave me the name of the family that brought her in. I left a message, in tears again, for Debbie that if she didn’t want Winni to please let me know and I would take her. Debbie called me back and said that she was so glad that a Winnataska girl wanted her and to meet me at the vet after work. She wanted to make sure I was a good person, I think.)
(Ever since 1998 when Cindy Wiley adopted Percy, another mistreated Camp Stray that has grown up to be the “Quintessential Dog,” I have known, if God saw fit for me to have a dog, that it would be a Camp Stray. I must say that I didn’t know if I was ready to be a pet owner until the first time Winni and I took a walk. She kept tripping because instead of looking where she was going, she kept staring at me with a tremendous look of gratitude on her face.)