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First Days

My life history to date; I share my birthday with Fransje - my new foster father in October. Fransje want's me to call him Fransje and I want to call him Dad but I am unable to do any of the above because I have no lips.
I don't know my real father because my mother was a bitch (true) and a tramp (believable rumours).
All I remember about my real mum is pleasant smells of sour milk and warm feelings of security. Story goes she won't let a human get within 30 feet of her, but she did graciously accept the food they left for her in an abandoned part of a timber mill that she made home. She "had" us - me and 6 brothers and sisters under an old conveyer belt. All was good for the first couple of weeks until we got big enough to start walking around, then we got discovered and taken away to be delivered to a welfare home called the Humane Society. I don't know what happened to my brothers and sisters but as luck would have it, I quickly got adopted by my new family before discovering what a humane society actually is.
Strange as they may seem on thier back legs with no fur or tails, they do feed me, keep me warm and take me on adventures....

This is my life with them;

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