The first rescue dog

There was never a day in my life where my family didn’t have one or more pets.  Cats, dogs, fish, hermit crabs, a couple sheep, even a rescue goat.  Some we sought out to adopt, but my parents’ house regularly had drop offs.  We found homes for most, but some we kept.  Unwanted animals that ended up at our house were just part of life.

My second dog showed up just before I finished elementary school.  She was dropped off next door where our neighbors were beginning to build their house.  They found her drinking rainwater from their foundation and fed her lunch meat.

She ended up hiding under our porch for days.  After following my mom around in the yard for a few days, she eventually started going into the house.  By this point, she was covered in ticks.  In addition, she was afraid of men, tall men, loud men, and men with hats – it took her seven years to overcome her fear of our neighbor who met all of those criteria despite being one of the friendliest people around.

Sweet little Daisy May became the family dog.  Already a year to a year and a half old when we adopted her, she was calm, laid back, and required little training.  And she never chewed on the couch.

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Ventures into fosterhood
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2 Responses to The first rescue dog

  1. Pingback: Nellie needs a home | Couches for Breakfast

  2. Pingback: What’s better than a blankie? | Couches for Breakfast

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