It’s not easy being a rescue. Really. The humans in my pack call me “Crumbles” which they claim is because I am a furry mess of black, tan and white that resembles cookie crumbles…but I am suspicious. I think it means something else. Do they think I crumbles under stress? Well I say HMPH!
It all started in Puerto Rico. I roamed the streets and had no home until the Pets Alive Puerto Rico crew found me. Then everything changed. They gave me food (not from the garbage!) and water (from a real bowl and not a puddle!). I shook and whined a lot. I am a sensitive creature, as most of you know. I felt scared but also relived that such nice humans took care of me. Soon after that I rode in a truck (too noisy), then on a plane (not a fan of planes), then in a car (that was ok I guess) and ended up in my very own pen at a place called Pets Alive Westchester. The shelter humans were so nice! Of course, I whined uncontrollably but that’s just what I do! A human came over and sat beside my pen so I did the only normal thing I could think of – I made a shrill crying sound and shoved my head into the arms of this human. “Pick meeeee!” I wailed. She just smiled and held me. Soon after that I found myself being carried out of the shelter in her arms and met the other members of my human pack. I finally knew what it meant to be saved. Liiiiiiiiiiick.
There’s some special things you should know about me. Here’s a handy picture to help you: