Life With My Old Dog

My dog is a german shepherd with a little chow (or something like that) mix. She has been my companion and my BOSS for at last ten years. She is about fourteen (age unverifiable) because when she decided to give up life on the streets, she chose to drop off at my neighbor's house and stay. We can only guess her age, which is OK since most women do not like to reveal their age anyway.

Back when she was still my neighbor's dog, she went out and got herself in a family way by two different males. After the fun, she ended up with EIGHT PUPS! Well that ended a lot of fun because it was a chore even giving away that many little , cute, furry, little, peeing, crying, pooping pups. Got the job done with a lot of help from a couple of the other neighbors, and things were looking up until there was a divorce at Tasha's (my dog's name) home. There was still one pup left, the runt.
Tasha's former owner told my husband that he was taking them to the pound in an effort to save his marraige. Being the unadmitted dog-lover that he was--my husband said, "I'll take them (Tasha and pup) till we can find them a good home"! DONE!! as I knew it would be at the moment they arrived at our home.
That was ten or so years ago and I still have Tasha to help me make my decisions. The Runt, who turned out to weigh around eighty pounds, and had epilepsy, went out and got herself hit by a car. I consoled myself with the notion that her days were numbered anyway because her seizures were getting to be more frequent.
Can't know much of anything about things like that, but I think, whatever it takes to get through the sadness. When the decision was finally made that these two dogs were going to take up residence here, they both got fixed so we would not have any surprizes.
It has made a dog lover of me.

Avis