Being at the dog adoption center can be pure madness, particularly after the loss of another pet.
Expectations are low, because the grieving period has just begun yet a family member insists that a new puppy is just the medicine for the recent heartbreak.
The inextinguishable hurting does not allow for any positive emotions that may come from staring into the eyes of the first Pit Bull or Pomeranian.
Shuffling through six kennels, hope seems completely lost...
until at last life presents the "miracle dog.
" He's a twenty-pound mutt with big sad eyes and an innocent whine.
He looks up as if to say, "Please take me home, I'll be your best friend.
" What he really means is, "It works every time...
" The first few hours are tolerable.
The poor pooch has been in a kennel for a while, so he has forgotten his household manners, and it's evident that the adoption paperwork was off somewhat when it read "house trained.
" It's not his fault.
The dog shows his interest in living comfortably by jumping up on the couch and curling up next to something warm, most likely a human.
This happens particularly when the human in mind is busy doing homework, eating dinner, or simply trying to relax after a hard day's work.
He doesn't move no matter what, and the only way to convince him to budge is by offering him a biscuit.
He wolfs it down in less than five seconds, and then he's back in his favorite person's lap again.
A week later, he begins his chewing stage.
He is either teething, or he is trying to teach someone in the house a lesson that he does not like to be left alone.
The suspected conclusion is the latter.
Now it's crate time.
So the dog is house-trained, thanks to the crate.
He also learns that he cannot chew on anything and everything...
when his owners are around.
Shoes and small articles of clothing slowly go missing, and it's no longer because of the sock fairy living in the laundry machines.
Now there's someone new to blame.
A year later, the dog still devours anything in sight, including the pen cap that was accidentally dropped on the floor, and he still takes over the couch.
He's expensive and needy...
but he's man's best friend, and we wouldn't trade him for the world.
Expectations are low, because the grieving period has just begun yet a family member insists that a new puppy is just the medicine for the recent heartbreak.
The inextinguishable hurting does not allow for any positive emotions that may come from staring into the eyes of the first Pit Bull or Pomeranian.
Shuffling through six kennels, hope seems completely lost...
until at last life presents the "miracle dog.
" He's a twenty-pound mutt with big sad eyes and an innocent whine.
He looks up as if to say, "Please take me home, I'll be your best friend.
" What he really means is, "It works every time...
" The first few hours are tolerable.
The poor pooch has been in a kennel for a while, so he has forgotten his household manners, and it's evident that the adoption paperwork was off somewhat when it read "house trained.
" It's not his fault.
The dog shows his interest in living comfortably by jumping up on the couch and curling up next to something warm, most likely a human.
This happens particularly when the human in mind is busy doing homework, eating dinner, or simply trying to relax after a hard day's work.
He doesn't move no matter what, and the only way to convince him to budge is by offering him a biscuit.
He wolfs it down in less than five seconds, and then he's back in his favorite person's lap again.
A week later, he begins his chewing stage.
He is either teething, or he is trying to teach someone in the house a lesson that he does not like to be left alone.
The suspected conclusion is the latter.
Now it's crate time.
So the dog is house-trained, thanks to the crate.
He also learns that he cannot chew on anything and everything...
when his owners are around.
Shoes and small articles of clothing slowly go missing, and it's no longer because of the sock fairy living in the laundry machines.
Now there's someone new to blame.
A year later, the dog still devours anything in sight, including the pen cap that was accidentally dropped on the floor, and he still takes over the couch.
He's expensive and needy...
but he's man's best friend, and we wouldn't trade him for the world.
Source...