This used to be my dog. "My dog". She appeared on my family's doorstep when she was a little over a month old, just before I was born. Needless to say I grew up with her since birth. She quickly became "My Dog" and out of all the family members I actually ended up had the deepest understanding of her needs. I always made sure my parents knew so she'd get treated better. We understood one another to the point we'd have conversations through body language. She was the one being I looked forward to seeing whenever I came home from school.

So you can already tell that I loved the fuck out of this dog. But that wasn't the end of it. She was a saint. She loved to do things with the family and was the friendliest dog I have ever seen. She only ever violently growled at a single person and the person turned out to be a serial killer. I was young and had no clue, other than I saw his face on the TV during some cop show. She ate with the family via scraps and plate cleaning. She fucking loved spaghetti. Even ate the veggies. She even got her own lazyboy recliner to sleep in. This dog was pampered and even spoiled, but still well behaved.
1/3