We got our dog, Buddy, from a no-kill shelter, during my second trimester of pregnancy with The Goob. This shelter rescued him from a county pound, where he was deemed "unadoptable" due to abuse from his former owners and rampant sickness. The no-kill facility rescued him, nursed him back to health, and here he is with our family, four years later. I feel sometimes that, thanks to the craziness of marriage, life, kiddos, whatnot, that I don't always give him the attention he deserves, but oddly enough (and this isn't an excuse), I feel sometimes like he understands because he loves our family as much as we do. He is crazy, rambunctious, loving, and all out wonderful. I joke with the hubby sometimes that I feel the dog loves me more than anyone else because he loves me faults and all. He has some health problems, and I so wish he didn't because he doesn't deserve them. He's a great dog, and I cherish how much he loves me and my little family.
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