In the beginning

I was born in New York and we had a mongrel that I was very attached to.  He became agressive and my parents had to put him to sleep.  I was mad at them and didn't understand why they would do such a thing, but now that I am older (and not much wiser) I can see that it was the right thing to do.  This dog would attack children, not me but others and back in the 60's there wasn't a Dog Whisperer.

Anyway to happier times.  I convinced my parents to take in a stray cat when I was 11yrs old.  They took pitty on the cat because it was missing his back paw. I said no one would want him and got lucky, the cats name was Leroy. 

Then when I was 12, I convinced my parents to adopt a friend's dog because the pooper scooper law was new and people thought 'I'm not picking up poo', so they didn't want the dog anymore.  Duke was a german shepherd/collie mix and he was really great dog.  He wouldn't harm a fly; well except for the neighbour's Shih Tzu who was always tormenting him.   Both Leroy and Duke lived long and happy lives and when they died my father cried (not so much for the cat but definately for the dog).  I could go on about these two but I've got more years to cover.

When I was on my own and after a sufficient mourning period (for Duke & Leroy), I decided to get some fish.  They aren't as cute and cuddly as cats & dogs and so one day when I went to the pet store, there was Dakota, the most beautiful snow ball I had ever seen.  He was on sale because he wasn't as small as he used to be and no one wanted him.  I took pity on him and bought him.  Well that was the end of the fish era.

Dakota wasn't the best pet, I wouldn't recommend a puppy mill dog.  He had  separation anxiety, so as one does, I got another Samoyed to keep him company.  Someone told me that breeders ofter get rid of dogs when they aren't useful anymore, so I called the closest one I could find (Philly) and drove down to get Princess.  She was 4 years old and had lost her last litter.  They couldn't breed her anymore so she was mine for a min fee, and the promise to fix her.  These two dogs were my life and when I moved to California so did they.

O.K., so I go to the pet store again to buy food and they are having an open adoption for cats.  There's this white haired cat named Nancy and she is so beautiful....you know what happens next.

Princess died after having diabetes for two years and I'm left with Dakota and Nancy.  I think Dakota is lonely so I go to The Amanda Foundation to get another dog.  This time I didn't want a big dog, because when they get sick I can't pick them up.  So I look for someone smaller, and not white hair cause I can never wear black with out looking like I have a fur coat on.  Lenny is the result, a little black lab mix that gets along with Dakota and is small enough for me to pick up, but not too small.

Dakota wasn't lonely, he was sick, he had a brain tumor and six months after I got Lenny, Dakota died.  I couldn't believe that Dakota had died so soon after Princess; Lenny was such a good pal, he wound up being a cure for me, not Dakota.

We are nearing the finish of my story so don't give up yet.  I met my now husband, moved to England, and of course brought Lenny & Nancy with me.

I want to adopt another dog but I am afraid Lenny is used to being top dog and might be too jealous.  Also, Lenny & Nancy are both older now and get along well, so I don't want to upset the animal cart.  But who knows what will happen.  Every time I go to a dog show I come home with my new favourite breed.  My husband is partial to Schnauzers.