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At A Glance
FM said that I could tell everybody about myself. I literally am a throw away dog. I was thrown over the fence because my owners did not want me. The good people at the shelter that I ended up at got them to relinquish me, so I could start my new wonderful life. But I was really confused at first. I was thown away, went to a shelter, then I ended up riding in about six different cars, and I ended up in this very nice home with other dogs and cats. But, the first night I was there, I had to sleep in this thing my FM called a crate. I didn't like it and I whined, cried, and barked for an hour.
The second night I was put in there, I only whined for just a very few minutes. I've decided that it is not bad, because I get treats every time I get in my crate. I like treats. Then I was taken to this place called "the good doctors" and I didn't know it at the time, but I lost my manhood there. I'm not sure I would call them "good doctors!" Well, FM came back and got me to take me back to her place. I REALLY like FM's house. Before I left to go the the good doctors, I didn't know that I was not suppose to piddle in the house and when I got back to FM's, I didn't know that either. But I have to tell you, that I am learning that I go piddle outdoors and have not gone in the house for a few days now.
I only weigh 46 lbs. and I am told that that is way underweight. I am very skinny and you can see all of my ribs. I like it here because FM gives me many meals and lots of treats. She said that she is going to fatten me up. I am a very smart boy. I already knew how to sit and shake, but I have learned to wait my turn when we get treats and I have learned to sit and wait before I eat my food. When I get treats, if you tell me "easy", I take my treat very gentle.
I am a Golden/lab mix. FM says that I look like a red lab with a Golden face. I am just the cutest thing ever. FM gives me LOTS of things that I can chew on because I really like to chew and I tend to chew on the woobies and put holes in them. I like the squeakers and I think they should not be in the woobies, so I help and take them out. But FM says that I am really not helping and I should not be doing that. So she gives me lots of bones and chewies that I can chew on.
I have found a real buddy in FM's little foster girl. She is about the same age that I am and we play and play and play all the time. We are always together. Outside we run and run and run and chase each other.
I am learning that I am not suppsed to "chase the kitty", but I only chase them because I want them to play with me. I am not trying to hurt them. I am doing much better and if they would not move or run, I would not chase them. As long as they are still, I am fine.