Thursday, July 29, 2010
Have you ever imagined a mixture of Uncle Fester & Quasimodo? I'm sure you haven't but imagine that & you will envision my Bobby, my 50 year old dog (in human years, of course). He was given to me six years ago by a friend of mine because she couldn't take care of him. "I can't take him with me," she said, "I have no other arms to put him in except the pound but those are not arms and i don't want that for him. He deserves better..." With those words i took him under my giant wings & he became mine, still is. Dirty and fat he was but i maintained him with my care and love and he lives--clean now, yes, albeit his big figure still remains. He loves to eat, i suppose he's privileged. It makes me sad sometimes that other dogs don't get the same treatment as he does but, alas, what can i do? I can't save every dog that comes to me in the same way that FEMA can't build homes for every unfortunate being. It's tough and stressful sometimes for i have the eyes to see it all but i think that just by saving him i did much for his life. After all, his company is great! He's old but steady, he snores like a human being, he can't run much for he has a dislocated leg, he can't see very well from one eye & above this, i very much carry a great affection for him. i do love this dog. I'm sure that if you'd get to meet him, you'd find him strange and quaint but adorable in his ways.