This page is dedicated to the memory of Patrick Jackson Pritchard
He graced our lives for a short three weeks, and in such a short period has created a lasting impact.
He died in Nashville at 9:45 PM at the Nashville Pet Emergency Clinic.
My name
is Patrick, and I was dropped off during the 5th annual Party at the
shelter. The vet said they don’t know for certain, but suspect that I’m between
6-9 years of age. I don’t weigh much (~4-5 lbs). My foster-dad
thinks the one of the best things about me is that I look like a puppy!
I absolutely love to hang out inside, laying on jeans. Everyone says I’m the cutest thing they’ve ever seen, and when outside, I love to meet new people. Toys are boring, and I don't understand why people keep throwing them around me and then staring at me, as if I should throw it back (I don't have hands people!!). How about if we just snuggled, instead of throwing these strange things.
When I arrived at my
foster home, I was very shy and I did not interact much with my foster-dad; I’d
just had my tubes tied and was still recovering. After a few days of resting.
I soon began to foll
ow
my foster-dad, and discovered my all-time favorite things: jeans. My foster-dad
occasionally leaves his jeans on the floor and I love to nap on them! The
first night, I slept in a big fluffy blanket in a crate. I was scared at first,
but now I don’t mind the crate at all. If I need to get out (because I’m
thirsty or need to go to the bathroom), I bark a few times so that I can be let
out. Until yesterday, I didn’t make a single mess in the house, but my
foster-dad waited a little too long to take me out, and I couldn’t hold it
anymore. I felt really bad, and don’t want to do it again. I normally will
stand by the door and scratch it to be let out.
My foster-dad is teaching me to sit, and I’m coming along! Dad says that I may have something called 'selective hearing', but he also feels like I may be truly hard of hearing. I was just groomed, and I loved it!!
I have not seen one of those ‘cat’ things, but I did meet another couple of dogs. I loved the lady – she was beautiful. I followed her around all day, and she kept getting annoyed with me. In retrospect, I should have given her some time, but I just couldn’t help myself – she’s just intriguing. The boy was not my friend, I kept growling at him and snapping occasionally. But my bark is worse than my bite, especially after I have most of my teeth missing (in the next two weeks). I've decided that I like coming home to just my house – I don’t think I would like other dogs; unless maybe they were my type.