3 thoughts on “A three-year dog rescue”

  1. The pains I had to go to in order to trap my feral Tomcat from a paper mill are
    beyond description. When I first met the the bastard, he could not have been
    more than 4 or 5 months old. I can remember the name of the dog I had
    when I was 5-years-old in 1961. My family had more dogs and cats than
    I could count. The moment I flew the coop, marked the last time I had
    a pet.

    Slow Poke Rodriguez II was suffering from parasites and other issues, hence
    the name. He was going to die of what was ailing him or he was going to be
    crushed under the wheels of a forkflift. That was 5 years ago, an he is still a
    pain in my ass!

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