Hi, my name is Peter, and I’m from the Brady Bunch. I was born in Mississippi. I don’t really remember a lot except for the fact that I was with my brothers and sisters in a backyard. Then I ended up in a shelter. Not one of the nice ones either. Some nice lady came to rescue us, and brought us to the nice shelter. Although it was a little chilly.
     Me and the bunch went to a jail and we were told that the people in the jail were going to teach us. It would be like doggie school. So when we were going to our forever home, we’d be good doggies. It wasn’t the story for me, well not yet anyway.
     I got sick. And I had been sick since I came to the cold place. I was too sick to be around for the final session of training in jail. It only happen once a week on a day named I can’t remember. Instead I was at a foster home. With other doggies, I didn’t much like being away from my family...
     I growled and acted mean at the unknown doggies. Not because I was mean, I promise. Just because I had a hurt footie. :( I had to go back to the shelter. It wasn’t too good, I still had a hurt footie. At least I was with my family. The only family I thought I had.
     Until one day, these nice people came in to the nice shelter. It was a mommy, and two nice girls. They were looking around at me and my brother’s and sisters because the mommy was my trainer at the jail. They got a special viewing because the mommy wanted to check up on us. They thought that we were all super cute, especially me.
     I sucked them in with my laser beam cutie eyes and I got to ride in the car with them to a house. They had to carry me to the car because of my footie.
     I got there, and I saw two bigger doggies. I kinda felt scared but not so much. I think that I just wanted to snuggle. They kept taking me to lots of doggie doctors. I’m not sure the name. They told me I was sick.

     The rest of the Brady Bunch had already gone to there forever homes. They thought that I had a lot of things wrong with me but they wouldn’t really put there finger on it. For a while no one thought that I was going to make it. Believe you me, I was a trooper. I liked my new family. Even the 16 year old boy. But you know how it is...so whenever he came up the stairs I would bark. He was kinda scary, but sometimes he wasn’t scary and we became buds. But only when he was gentle and gave me cheese. I like cheese.
     The littlest girl would take me on not far walks and we would see her friends and we would play house. I was always the family dog. Except I didn’t have a family.
     They, and I’m not really sure who they was, well anyway, they told me that I would get a home very soon. It was June 2009. They finally found out what was wrong with me. I has a infection, obviously in my wittle footie. I took kinda a long time to get all better. After all, I was separated from my real mommy very soon, and I was just a baby. I had to have medicine, but I was a real loved doggie. Still not a forever home but if my not forever home hadn’t have brought me from the shelter, I would have been put to sleep. I’m not really sure what that means, but it doesn’t sound too good.
     When the middle girl (who calls me small fry) went off to summer camp it was kinda sad. Mommy told me that I couldn’t even go to get her. Then one day, after she had came from camp of course, she slipped in the kitchen and fell. She scared me because it wasn’t very quiet to tell you the truth. I didn’t want to get scared again so I didn’t hang around with her. Then she came to me and she made it all better. A lot of times people would contact my temporary mom and say that they might want me. They usually said things like “Oh no, sorry I already have too many doggies” or “Doggies with medical problems are out of the question, but he’s cute!”

     But one day these people said that they wanted me. It was a Mommy and a Daddy, and two girls. They replaced their last doggie’s back knees. One day, I was at a park with a lot of people. I met one of the girls, and my most certain future mommy. My foster home was telling them all about me. Especially how I liked my crate and how it was like my little house, oh and how I liked to be called small fry.
     Soon enough, I had to leave the nice people who took care of me for such a long time. It wasn’t too happy, but I went to some very nice people. Once they came to my new house, and I showed them all of my toys and my new family.
     I have a mommy, and a daddy and two little girls now. I take the walk to school with mummy, daddy and the kids. A few times I saw my other family. It was great. They still think that I’m super cute, because I am super cute.

     I have a great life now. It’s almost hard to remember the bad stuff. I really love my family and they love me. I am also glad that my forever home kept the name Peter because that’s my real name.
     My other family took great care of me. If it wasn’t for them, and the girl's power of persuasion, I wouldn’t be the cute little dog with a loving home.