6. Favorite

Day 6: Favorite

Perla is my favorite :)  

Perla is the offspring of my parent's Pomeranian, so I have had her, literally, since the day she was born.  She is four years old, turning five in March, and she is the love of my life.  

When she was born, the birth sack kept her from breathing.  Her mom, Cinda, tried stimulating her, but once Perla showed no response her mom gave up, pushed her to the side, and began tending to another puppy.  Luckily, my mom was there and was able to remove the sack and clean out Perla's mouth.  She started to breathe and squirm around which was, of course, a huge relief.

Ever since that night we have always referred to Perla as a "special" one.  Not because she defied the odds and survived the strenuous birth, but because we think the lack of oxygen she received that night made her "special."  Possibly some brain damage. Seriously. She's special.

We first noticed how special she was at feeding time.  All the other puppies would be nestled up to their mom's underbelly feeding beautifully, while Perla was lost somewhere in her mom's bushy tail...eyes not opened yet...trying to find her way to a food source.  She seemed to get lost pretty easily.

As she got older, Perla would be just sitting there staring out at who knows what, and then all of a sudden let out a squeal and completely throw herself backwards.  No idea why she ever did this, but she did, and it was hilarious.

She was the runt of the litter, so, naturally, she was picked on the most.  Her sisters would beat her up and drag her around by her tail.  I felt bad for her because she was so little and sweet, so I chose her out of the litter to be my puppy.  I chose the smallest, cutest, quietest, and sweetest puppy of all.

Oh my goodness was I wrong.

As she grew older, Little Miss Perla developed quite the strong personality.  She became the meanest and loudest puppy of them all.  Yappy yappy yappy.  She's so vocal!  When playing with me or her sisters she doesn't stop yelling.  It’s not a barking sound that she makes, but more of a really drawn out "arrrrrrrrr" that she does over and over and over and over.  

She's a diva.  That is, of course, Brian's fault.  Ok, Ill take some of the blame  - we did not raise her well, but mostly it's Brian's fault.  


She rules our house.  She sleeps in our bed, only eats wet food (even after months of trying all different brands she refuses to eat anything BUT Caesar), and she gets attention at all times from either Brian or myself.  She will hop from lap to lap so that someone is constantly petting her.  If you stop petting her, she throws herself backwards and paws at your face.  If she is ignored she will pee out of spite. She gets treats every time she goes outside (which most of the time she just goes out and pretend squats so she can get her bone), she is walked, played with and loved oh so much.  

She is completely spoiled and does get a little too high maintenance for us sometimes, but she is really so sweet.  She has a personality of her own and she, as crazy as she is, has a big heart.  She is the loudest, weirdest, funniest, and most gentle dog I have ever known and I wouldn't have her any other way. She's my favorite and I love her just the way she is...special and all :)

She does not like not being a part of my belly pictures week to week:

Tell me it's not Brian's fault that she is so spoiled: