Like many of us humans, Sprout is a mongrel. He’s part chihuahua and part papillon. (Papillon, you know, the dogs with the butterfly ears.) I brought him home from the Humane Society–a trial adoption.

Immediately, he began taking me for a rushed, stumbling run/walk twice a day, A bad boy on the leash, he had all the energy of an enthusiastic little boy. I had a hard time keeping up.
But there were the big brown eyes, the dog-kisses on my face and hands, the lap-sitting while I watched TV. Also heart-warming were many bad doggie habits he did not have, such as cringing or freaking out at loud noises. One evening he sat on my lap as a thunderstorm approached. Thunder crashed loud. He raised his head, looked up at me. I patted him and said, “It’s alright.” He dozed again; he trusted me implicitly.

What can I say, I loved him. But he required almost as much attention and exercise as that energetic little boy. He needed a family with small children to play with, maybe another small dog as a friend to pal around with.
It was a sad day when I took him back to Continue reading →