He sat there, head bowed, back bent and silent. His tail still and tucked away, unmoving, to show he wasn’t violent. I called him toward the kennel door, to sniff at the back of my hand, and then rubbed his scruffy head as a bond was formed between a dog and a man. He was *****, he was frightened, and I was sure he was covered with fleas, but his big brown eyes with unshed tears were crying in a silent “please.” As I rubbed his ears he wagged his tail, unnoticeable at first, but hope began to grow in him like the nagging of a quiet thirst. I had papers to sign before we left behind those walls of brick and plaster, but I understood I didn’t choose; it was the dog that chose his master. That day I saved a dog from death, he became my friend for many years, all for a little food, some bones, and some loving rubs behind the ears.
This is Pooh Bear’s story. I still love that dog even though he’s gone. But more to the point, there are animal shelters full of animals waiting for loving homes. They are alone, scared, and condemned to death from the time they enter that place. Think about that before you buy an animal anywhere else.