Since no one knows my real birthday, I have a Gotcha Day instead. It was the first day I arrived at Good Dog – Oct. 6, 2011, and I’ll never forget it for the rest of my life.
My road to happiness was anything but smooth. Homeless, scared and running the streets, I was hit by a speeding car that left me behind. With broken bones and a paralyzed backside, I cried for help – loud enough for a jogger to hear. A dog lover, she scooped me up, drove me to a vet and begged for help. After multiple surgeries, painful therapy and 30 days in the hospital, the vet thought I’d never walk again. No one claimed me, my rescuer already owned three pups, and no one seemed to know where I’d end up. But all of it was worth it because it brought me here.
Good Dog initially offered to rehabilitate me – the second best idea in the history of ideas. My instincts told me to greet every creature that walked through the door, but pain held me back. My back legs couldn’t muster the strength to move for weeks, but I still tried. With lots of help from my humans (and some amazing dogs), I gradually recovered. My walk is a bit crooked (and my run even more so), but I’m happy. After all those months, Good Dog decided I’d make the perfect house dog — the first best idea in the history of ideas.
This new life is nothing like my past. The days are filled with human love, doggie friendships and perks like you wouldn’t believe – like the biscuit jar that’s always full and fluffy hotel beds that are perfect for napping. Each day is an adventure I’m not afraid to tackle. I fearlessly play with the big dogs in daycare and volunteer my time in canine training class. Every Tuesday, the boss requests my stampe of approval at the manager’s meeting, where important business is conducted as I sleep on laps and beg for food.
All in all, my new home is the stuff of dreams. I love meeting and becoming friends with all of you, not to mention your pups and your little ones. Without a doubt, I’m the luckiest dog on earth.