Dogs come to us in different ways.  For years I went the purebred route – yes, poor Sophie is a purebred.  She must come from a weird line. I adopted a Samoyed years ago that had so many issues it came to a very sad end.  She was a product of particularly bad breeding compounded with initial owners who had no idea what they were doing.  After that I swore I would never adopt someone else’s dog, ever.

Along came Chester.  We’ve had him for almost 2 1/2 years now.  He had some issues when he came to us but this is a classic case of love can fix a whole lot of wrong.  He’s become quite comfortable with us as a matter of fact. He still doesn’t like being left alone but the panic is gone.  He still doesn’t like being in a crate but now he sees it as his bed and not a punishment.  He’s still afraid of everything – not in a cowering kind of way but if something startles him he runs in the opposite direction.  Bill thinks it’s good to have a dog that considers self-preservation.  He’s afraid of the dark so he won’t go out of the perimeter of the spotlight at night.  He will stand on the edge and woof (more of a woo woo).

My sister got a puppy last weekend from a rescue group.  She’s 12 weeks old and seriously cute.  She’s bright and will be a very good dog I’m sure.  Her daughter posted a link today about a woman who’s project it was to photograph the least likely to be adopted dogs at her local shelter. Her photos are beautiful.  When I read it I knew that I could never set foot in a shelter or I would come home with a car load of dogs.

I’m happy to see the shift from owning a purebred to adopting a mutt. There are so many of them that need adoption and if Chester is any indication an adopted dog could very well be the best dog you’ve ever had.