My daughter Pat has drug home wounded animals ever since she was able to walk.  Everyone in the family now owns a dog that Pat picked up on the road on her way to work.

Yesterday, she said that she was bringing me a dog.  I said “No.”  I now have a dog.  And I do admit, she is my dog.  Someone treated this animal with cruelty and she is so thankful to have me.  Lying on my feet as I write this.

She is definitely a mutt.  No papers for this one.  And her foot is cut, she has bite marks under her neck.  She got the worst of whatever happened to her.  She is thankful to be here with me.  And I am thankful to have her.  She has yet to bark.  She yelped when I rubbed her ear.  We are going to the vet on Monday to get everything done.  Pat took her to the vet to get shots and all of that, but I’ll get her fixed and see what is wrong with the ear and foot.  This is going to be a “throw money at the problem” for a few weeks I’m sure.  But it will be nice to have some company for a change.