I’ve had a helluva track record with dogs over the years. There was my first dog Moosie, a german shepherd, given to my aunt when my father determined that the Moose was getting too big and too violent with the kids. I was absolutely heartbroken. Then there was the golden retriever Royce, who ran away because my father had her chained to a tree in the backyard. He was convinced that it was good because Royce had a long lead to enjoy. Well, Mr. Royce said: “fuck that noise, ruff!” and bolted, disappearing forever. Again I was heartbroken. Throughout the years there were many other heartbreaks and near misses. From an ultra-violent shar-pei named Ming Xing Fu (Superstar in English) that I loved but moved to Europe with an ex-girlfriend, to the black lab that had massive digestion issues that basically translated to shit everywhere. But now in my ripe old 50’s there is Ruby Gloom. A 12 pound terrier that I would take a bullet for. I really love this pooch and no one is going to take her away from me. I am old enough now to rain terror down on those that may try. I have finally found my forever dog and she’s found her forever home. When we moved to Oregon from New Jersey she lay on a pillow in Papa’s lap the whole way. 3000 miles of love and comfort for the doggo, and finally a pup that wasn’t going anywhere.

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