Having a dog is like a job creation project. It is a LOT of work. By the time she’s fed, watered, walked and played with, there’s the clean up to do. She sheds more hair daily than what I have on my head. There’s clumps wherever she’s traversed. By this time of the day, I’m bushed. Done. My mind is mostly empty or full of buzzing bees. But I wouldn’t have it any other way. What would I do without my fur baby, Sheba?

We’ve been together for 12 years now. She’s the happiest, liveliest and friendliest dog I know. She runs up to everybody, grinning and wagging her tail. She expects a fuss or at least a pat on the head. She is mystied when it doesn’t happen. But, oh well, she just runs up to the next person we meet. She fits my bill of needs perfectly. I needed someone to cheer me and get me out walking daily. And she does all that.

She was 2 months old when I brought her home in my sister’s cat crate. She was that small. She had big paws so I knew she would get much bigger. I invested in the biggest dog crate I could find. I took out a dog training book from the library. That was my sum total of preparation. I thought we would have breakfast together and live happily ever after. I was so wrong! It’s a long story. The next segment will come another day.