How I Found My People
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I was adopted at the Oregon
Humane Society in Portland in 1992. I remember it well...it was August and
one of the hottest days of the year. All the other dogs were pretty much crashed
from the heat (they have air-conditioning now), but not me. I saw these two punks
pass the puppy kennels and I started "barking my ass off" as they say.
What I was really saying was "Get me the hell out of here!" It must have worked,
because after checking out all the other suckers in the place they came back to
me. I knew I had them, but I had to play it cool.
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The nice shelter staff had to make sure these freaks off the street could deal
with me, so we had drinks in the "get aquainted" lounge. I totally ignored them.
I hid behind my friend who worked there and whinned and jumped at the windows
whenever someone I knew walked by. I tested them good; afterall, I wanted peeps
that could relate to me. Well, these weren't your average shelter shoppers, most
would have kept a'lookin', but they took the bait and the staff got their 411.
Since I had already been returned, I was a bit nervous and didn't sleep well.
But the next day they took me home and knew it would be all right.
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I didn't know it yet, but they were soon to figure out that I'd really love a
raw food diet and that they would train me well.
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