The Pup-parrazi Never Stops: One Foster Puppy's Take On Growing Up In Shelter Care.

What do Christina Crawford, Miley Cyrus and I all have in common? The spotlight. We all grew up in entirely too much of it.  Unlike Christina, I have no horror stories about coat hangers - I grew up surrounded with nothing but love. And unlike Miley - well, unlike Miley everything. I'm a puppy of class and distinction. Despite growing up surrounded by the constant clicking of cameras.

I vant to be alone. 

Shortly after I was born, for reasons that are entirely understandable, my biological mother decided she was over this whole mothering thing. And by 'shortly after I was born' I mean within fifteen or twenty minutes. To be fair, she wasn't feeling well and needed surgery but even after her surgery we just never connected - she wanted nothing to do with me, I was a weird, blind, hamster-y looking thing that wasn't thinking very much at all so there went that family relationship.

I was trying to cover my face but my paw is too small. 

It was good thing that my weird, blind, hamstery looking-self was brought to HSSV along with my ill mother. We're vulnerable at that age and when Mom has washed her paws of you that usually means forget it, you're done. Without being brought here, I wouldn't have survived. That said, that doesn't mean it was easy.

The camera - always the camera. From my first foster home to my forever home with the VP of Medical Operations here, I've always been around. And when you're always around and you're this cute, everyone sticks a camera in your face. And if they can't get your face, they stick a camera towards any other part of you they can.

Do they make this sweatshirt in size XXXXXXXXXS?

I was three days old when I came here. We're demanding little guys at this age - I needed 'round-the-clock care. Every two or three hours I needed to be bottle fed. And after I was fed I needed some help with other stuff. So I went home with a staff member who could keep an eye on me.  Odds are pretty low that pups as small as I am survive without mom, but they didn't give up on me.

My first word was 'oijihnklluhu'.

When we both developed pneumonia, I lost my brother. That was rough. That was when Dr. K, VP of Medical Operations and a veterinarian, brought me home to keep an eye on me. And a camera on me. Always a camera....

Step off, big dog. I might be wearing a sweat sock but I'm tough.

I couldn't make friends, eat, anything, without being photographed. Which is a good thing, because I can show you guys how orphan bottle babies grow up. Like this, kind of. Only a lot of our awesome foster parents are volunteers, not staff and most dogs don't get adopted by staff. But after nursing me through the pneumonia, it seemed like a pretty done deal that I was here to stay. I love my family a lot and get to go to work sometimes. Which is good because I have a lot of friends here.

Hanging with my posse. 

But bad because I get drafted for all sorts of stupid photo shoots.

Ho ho so not funny, guys. 

Now that I'm a little more grown up I've hit a rebellious patch. Not in a scary Lindsey-Lohan sort of way, just normal puppy stuff. So I'm going to puppy school. I'm sure the paparazzi will be at my graduation, but that's just the pay off I had to make.

Don't worry, Mom. We'll get you trained. 

Anyway, thanks to everyone that supports HSSV, adopts from us and spreads the word about us. Without you guys I wouldn't be here.

If you're thinking about donating, this would be a great time. For the next few weeks we have a matching campaign - all monthly donations will be worth twice as much! So $12 a month is worth $25 to us - check it out!