I'm going to start off talking about one of my most beloved things in the whole world... my pets. Right now we only have one dog. We have Grizzy, who is the social house dog that I love with all my butt (I'd say heart, but my butt is bigger!!).
But I'll start out at the beginning... when I was still single I was living alone in a duplex on the old air force base and it wasn't the best neighborhood. One night - actually it was Christmas eve - I woke up to the sound of some guys yelling and fighting in my back yard. I was scared to death. I laid in bed just listening and thinking to myself that if they came thru the window of my back bedroom, I was going out the front window of my bedroom as it faced the street. Well it finally quieted down back there and I fell back asleep. Don't ask me why I didn't call the police - I don't know... but I decided then that I needed a "watch dog". So the next business day I headed to the animal shelter and picked out A.J. He was just a little blonde poodle mix puppy at the time and I fell in love with him immediately. I took him everywhere with me that I could. During the day the neighbor kids came down and played with him. He loved kids. But the funnies thing is he never grew up to be a watch dog. He would never bark at anyone and he loved everyone. So if I ever had another prowler he would have either run up to them and licked them to death or he would have cowered beside me. LOL
When I met and fell in love with Roger, I entered into our marriage with A.J. and he entered into it with a female cat named Fred. The two got along great. But A.J. was used to having me to himself, so he acted up a but by digging in Roger precious yard, and believe me - that didn't go over to well. Roger takes a lot of pride in his yard and threatened to "BBQ" A.J. numerous times. Finally Roger had had enough and said we had to get rid of him. Well I didn't know what to do. I loved my new husband, but I loved my dog too. How do you decide. I just told Roger "okay" and walked into the bathroom and started crying. When Roger finally figured out what I was doing in the bathroom he came in and consoled me and told me that we didn't have to give A.J. away, but we just needed to train him not to dig. I was so happy at that moment!
A.J. lived to be a ripe old age... when it was time to put him down, I only agreed because the Vet said he was suffering. Roger and I both walked out of that Vet's office bawling our hearts out. He was a good dog!