Meet Little Rooney

I’m not referring to the sexy Man United player, but our little pup, Rooney, named after the former. Well, he is not so little anymore, he is growing bigger and bigger by the minute, much to my mother’s concern as our house is just not big enough – Ferdi takes up most of the space.

We got him about 3 months ago from Martin and Berny. He could then barely fit in the little shoe box in which he was transported in. He looked so tiny and helpless; so scared and surely missing his mommy. My icy black heart almost melted for him on the spot. Im not very fond of animals, but I fell in love almost instantly with Rooney.


At first I had to fight with the rest of the family as to what to name him. Even though he technically belongs to Ferdi, I insisted he be called Rooney (could have been worse, my second option was Hitler). Ferdi wanted to name him Theodore (I don’t know what the hell he was thinking, poor dog), Weasel wanted to call him “The Grim Reaper” and the old folks just called him “Pookey” (how gay). So after facing a huge identity crisis, the name Rooney stuck. I won.

He was quite popular a week after we got him, at the Spring Bazaar and he got passed around from one drunken lap to the next. Poor thing was very sick in the beginning but gathered strength once he began to eat properly. Now the little bugger eats everything in sight (no doubt adding to his rapid size), finishes his food in 5 seconds flat then proceeds to place himself under our table and demand to be fed our scraps. He is so spoilt that he wont take no for an answer.

Despite all the numerous toys we have gotten for him, he has now taken ownership of my favourite Eeyore slippers. I fought to keep them at first but he chewed them so much it was no fun sinking my feet into slippers full of drool and doggy smell. His favourite place to put all his things is under the table, of course, and you can still find my slippers there as well.

He has a keen eye for gardening too and spends numerous hours outside “attending” to the plants and occasionally using the flower beds as a mattress while the mister naps. They tend to make a good, crunchy snack too. To show his appreciation, he sometimes drags in a flower or two, roots and all, into the house and gives it to my mother. He knows he is in big trouble and runs to his “safe house” under the couch before he gets smacked. You’d think those innocent puppy eyes looking up at you would make my mother think twice about punishing him but she is not falling for it anymore. Lol.

We are trying not to make him into a sissy and Ferdi is considering sending him to boot camp and learn some discipline while maintaining some “machoness”. We don’t want him to turn out like scruffy! Lol. But there are several things that scare him still, like the penguin on a surfboard that I got for Ferdi with his Happy Meal. Once you put it on the floor and let it surf in circles, Rooney runs away and hides next to my mother. It scares him sh*tless, hahaha.

Best Rooney Story: last Saturday when terrorist Kayla arrived, she went for him immediately with open arms. Rooney got so scared he ran under the couch and hid behind the curtains…and peed himself. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I almost peed MYSELF from laughing so much!!!!