My name is Cook
It wasn’t always Cook, but since I was found in the street and taken to the shelter, nobody knew my real name,so somebody named me Cookie. The shelter was in Spain, near Cadiz in the South. It belongs to a Dutchman called Peter. He takes care of 600 dogs and depends on charities.
So, three years ago, a huge trailer came from Holland to Spain, it was a horse trailer. They put many many dogs in it, in kennels and we were taken to Holland. I ended up in the North of the country with a family. I was told I could stay there until I found my Gotcha home.
I was only there for a few days before my Mom and Dad came to meet me. Forty five minutes later I was sat in the car, and then we drove for hours until we got home. I entered the house and was “greeted” by 2 wild creatures, hissing and spitting! Yes, Cats! Despicable animals. However, I was curious about them and kept sniffing and following them around the house. With Mick, I became friends quite quickly, but the other one still hates me and tries to beat me up!
Mom took me to the petshop right away and bought me a basket, leash, brushes and kibble. But I had never had kibble before and wouldn’t eat it! Mom was climbing the walls because she wanted me to eat and I just wouldn’t! My ribs were sticking out and the vet said that I was at least 20% under my ideal weight. The first year, I was a sickly little thing until the vet discovered I am allergic to wheat! Mom started me on meat and within a couple of weeks I was a healthy and happy dog.
In the beginning I stole every morsel of food I could find. Once, Mom had just put some food on the table, lamb stew it was, when the phone rang and someone asked for a phone number. Mom got up from the table to get it and when she came back, I was on the table and the food was gone! She didn’t even get mad, but just laughed.
When Mom and Dad are having dinner, I sit under the table and wait patiently for Dad to drop something! I am never never disappointed!!
My life is good now, Mom says I am a very stable, dependable dog. She even takes me to a nursing home where people can stroke me. I let them and Mom says it is good for them.
I have a lot of friends, both real and virtual friends. I like every dog as long as it is not a Malteser. I hate them with a passion! My best friend is Dirk, a huge Swiss Mountain dog. Our sizes don’t match but we love each other.
29 November is my Gotcha Day, and of course we celebrate it. I am a lucky dog and I think mom and dad are lucky too to have me.
Yes, I have a high opinion of myself, and rightly so!