From commentor Josefina:
Rescue 1: I knew I shouldn’t adopt a dog here in the city before I had time for it. So before I went freelance, I gave a lot of thought to my dog-related requirements: a medium-sized female, black so the shedding wouldn’t show as much. Through a convoluted yet boring series of events, I ended up with the akita-Holstein mix you see here. He was a year or so old, found wandering in Central Park, wearing a bandana and no tags. I named him Jove. And truly, in his nectarine-sized brain, Jove was the dog among dogs, canine sublimity made flesh. Jove was not a fighter; he was all about pre-emptive arrogance, a lot of chin- thrusting and chest-bumping bluffoonery. That, and a selective blindness regarding any quadruped bigger than he was. (He once nearly broke his own neck, refusing to see a cow.) He gleefully rolled in stench and horror: rotting pigeons, fish, seals; shit from deer, cattle, humans. I never quite understood the phrase “egg-sucking dog” until I met Jove. Over a series of steps, he taught himself to open the fridge, haul out the egg carton, close the fridge, eat the eggs, and hide the carton. He was infuriating and useless and I loved him. I can still feel his ears, and that imperial plume of a tail, and his sigh when the big-sleep drug kicked in. That was January 2004.
Early Morning Open Thread: Three RescuesPost + Comments (26)