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In memory of

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transports

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Why Adopt," you ask?

 

I was a bit out of sorts after my Summer of '97 -- I'd just decided I didn't want to be a lawyer, though I was entering my third year of law school -- after working in a law firm all summer, I decided lawyering was too lonely and too boring a lifetime for me.

To cure some of the loneliness, I went on a quest to get my first pet. I was set on a hedge-hog. I don't know why, but it sounded like a decent pet... that is, till I saw one -- there seemed to be no TLC coming from that little unit...

 



Spud as I first saw him - happy and confident...


 



Spud and me, on adoption day - my look has thankfully
changed since then!

So next, it was a dog. I looked in the paper, and found a pug. I went and visited her, and she was quite nice. Her "owners" said they were "professional breeders" and that she was at the end of her cycle, so they were selling her. They wanted $600. Well, nothing seemed right about that, though I felt badly for the pug.

 

 

 

 

My next step was to call animal shelters. I wasn't sure why, but they seemed like a better bet. I called a bunch of shelters, and asked, "What is your most difficult dog to adopt out"? And the James A. Brenner Shelter said, "SPUD" -- so Spud it was.

Next thing I know, I was off to see Spud in the shelter. The staff let me walk him, and I remember how curious he was to see the world outside of his run in the shelter...

Spud's prior life had not been easy and was a text-book case of "owner" neglect and potential fighting heritage. This was so interesting to the local town that he was featured on the front page of their newspaper. Spud was 1 year old when I adopted him and I'll never forget our ride home, with him sleeping, sleeping, sleeping the whole way, except to glance up once in a while to check that I was still there. On that ride, I felt proud like a new father, ready to explore the world with my new boy.

Since rescuing Spud from the kill-shelter, he has been my best friend. He has seen me through the bar exam, business school, living in Manhattan, countless girlfriends, numerous transports and has always been there to be my absolute companion, proving to me what unconditional love is.

 

 



Spud, proud as a peacock, on adoption day!

Rescue dogs are different than bought breeder dogs. To me, they sort of "know" where they were, and how good it is where they are now. Plus, there's just the joy of looking at a dog and saying, "I love you so much, and I'm glad I could help you when you needed it most."

Spud is lucky. He is one of the vast minority of the dogs at shelters across the country that walks out the front door alive. He is why I do rescue, and why I love and respect the breed. Sure, mistakes have been made, but we have always learned from them. Spud was and is my first smilin' pitbull.

To learn what happens to the less fortunate dogs shelter, click here. Please say a prayer for them and support spay/neuter programs as well as your local humane society.

 

Here's Spud and me at our first Christmas in '97 --

-- the pride and love on his face...