Cookie And KeppenArt

Let me introduce myself. My name is Cookie and I consider myself the official model at KeppenArt. Here’s how that came about:

A man named George took me away from my mom and siblings one day to live with him. That same day he took me to meet this woman named Kathy. I liked her and since she and her mate lived across the road I often visited, especially when she was sitting in the flower beds pulling up weeds (that’s what she called them). I can remember her putting these silver or black boxes up to her face, looking at me and then hearing clicking sounds coming from those boxes. She always seemed to have a clicking box with her. I heard her call one of those boxes a camera so that must be what clicking boxes are.

Then one day George and I, Kathy and her mate all went for a boat ride to a sandbar, like we often did and we had a day of fun chasing bugs and napping in the sun. Everything was great until that next morning. George and I left in his truck very early. It was strange for him to be putting lots of stuff in the truck before we went for a ride and he seemed a little freaked out about something. We rode a long time to another house where this lady called me her granddog, whatever that is.

The next few days were so weird. A big storm called Katrina blew through. Everybody still talks about it sometimes. They call it a disaster. It blew away all of our houses. Even my dog house was gone. Everyone’s house was gone and there were little bits and pieces of people’s stuff everywhere.

Well, to make a long story short, a little while after that storm George took me to stay with Kathy and I lived with her and her mate for the rest of my life. She loved having me part of her pack, too. I could tell. She took good care of me and she petted and kissed me a lot. I know Kathy and everyone was sad to lose their houses but I also know that storm is the reason I was able to come live the rest of my life with Kathy. And I was always happy about that.


03/03/2021 at 8:41 am

The only dog I ever liked.

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