I'm so glad i met him. He loves me so much that when i leave the room he watches the door for my return. He's not so good at listening to me, but he is never crabby and he kisses me on demand. Every night he curls against me and keeps me warm. He's the most agreeable and loving male i've ever had the luck to associate with.
Miyagi.
Today marks our first year together. I met him, under duress, last year right before Memorial Day weekend. I was told "come and meet him, he's meant for you". He was exactly what i said i did not want. Scrawny, not a puppy, timid.....but, okay. I will meet him because my girlfriend who runs the shelter insisted it was destined.
I spent 4 hours there that day, 3 of which were sitting on a cement floor. He was sooooo tiny and fragile. He was obviously attached to his foster mom, and vice versa. I asked her why she didn't keep him herself and she told me she didn't want to put him through another change because he would most likely outlive her. I had brought treats, and when i asked if i could give them to him both women told me he would not take treats. He had and still has eating issues. But when i held out my hand to him, he came right over and grabbed the nugget and ate it. They were amazed. He hasn't done that again since then. When it came time to weigh him he ran around the room not wanting to be picked up (he still does this with everyone but me) and i swooped down and grabbed him. He was mine as soon as we saw each other. He fell asleep between my legs as i sat crosslegged on the floor.
The only problem was that I was going away for the weekend, and he had not yet been chipped. He needed one more trip to the vet to be cleared for adoption and there was no way he would enjoy being in a party house with a bunch of loud (mostly intoxicated) adults all weekend. That and there were no dogs allowed in NH house. I actually tried to back out of going, so he could come home with me. But i was assured they needed the time with him to get him through the shelter process. I was so concerned that someone else would come and get him. And honestly, i had been waiting for him and now that i found him I wasn't happy about leaving him.
On May 31st i went and picked him up and brought him home. He did not know how to play. He refused to eat or drink, and he wanted to hide in his crate. His history from what i'm told was that he had never been outside, taken care of by a handicapped woman who from the sound of it wasn't very well taken care of herself. He was emaciated and dehydrated when he was turned in to the shelter and spent a week in the hospital. He spent 6 months in foster care before he was ready to be adopted and i'm the first and only one that met him to do so. He was given to me in a cat carrier. I can't imagine him being any smaller than he was then.
An interesting fact is that for about 2 years i had been wanting a dog and then i would talk myself out of it. My ex didn't think that a small dog was "really" a dog and was less than enthusiastic and went so far as to tell me "no"....hahahah nice try. I talked about it on and off and knew that i would meet a dog that would be mine eventually. All of a sudden i had a mad and unrelenting need to find "a dog" and i told my girlfriend that i was ready and serious. I started filling out applications everywhere and was getting really frustrated with the lack of response when you consider how many animals are in kill shelters.
One day Lisa called me and told me to come down and meet him. He was the first, and the only dog i met. The shelter is located in Terriville and has a reputation for being strict in who they adopt out to. Wolcott, where i was living at the time, is where he had been turned in from.......right around the corner from where i was living. I walked by his home several times a week on the reservoir trail. He was two when i adopted him, and he had been living there since the time i had begun to think i needed a dog. We were meant to be. His name was "tiny" which i though was horrid for a small male dog and even though they advised not changing his name i did it anyways. He needed a bigger, fuller, more meaningful name. He became Miyagi due to his little white beard.
And here we are a year later, he and I. It has been less than stable for him yet he has adapted so well. He has become less fragile, more robust. He plays fetch (when he desires) and eats regularly although still only the one food. He goes with me everywhere, even work and grocery stores. I carry him in a modified hippie boho bag (NOT a purse) and he is so quiet and happy to be resting against me that people very rarely notice he is with me. Kids see him, and i love that. I love him so much and can't imagine my life, and especially this past year, without him. My constant and steady love.
Miyagi.
Today marks our first year together. I met him, under duress, last year right before Memorial Day weekend. I was told "come and meet him, he's meant for you". He was exactly what i said i did not want. Scrawny, not a puppy, timid.....but, okay. I will meet him because my girlfriend who runs the shelter insisted it was destined.
I spent 4 hours there that day, 3 of which were sitting on a cement floor. He was sooooo tiny and fragile. He was obviously attached to his foster mom, and vice versa. I asked her why she didn't keep him herself and she told me she didn't want to put him through another change because he would most likely outlive her. I had brought treats, and when i asked if i could give them to him both women told me he would not take treats. He had and still has eating issues. But when i held out my hand to him, he came right over and grabbed the nugget and ate it. They were amazed. He hasn't done that again since then. When it came time to weigh him he ran around the room not wanting to be picked up (he still does this with everyone but me) and i swooped down and grabbed him. He was mine as soon as we saw each other. He fell asleep between my legs as i sat crosslegged on the floor.
The only problem was that I was going away for the weekend, and he had not yet been chipped. He needed one more trip to the vet to be cleared for adoption and there was no way he would enjoy being in a party house with a bunch of loud (mostly intoxicated) adults all weekend. That and there were no dogs allowed in NH house. I actually tried to back out of going, so he could come home with me. But i was assured they needed the time with him to get him through the shelter process. I was so concerned that someone else would come and get him. And honestly, i had been waiting for him and now that i found him I wasn't happy about leaving him.
On May 31st i went and picked him up and brought him home. He did not know how to play. He refused to eat or drink, and he wanted to hide in his crate. His history from what i'm told was that he had never been outside, taken care of by a handicapped woman who from the sound of it wasn't very well taken care of herself. He was emaciated and dehydrated when he was turned in to the shelter and spent a week in the hospital. He spent 6 months in foster care before he was ready to be adopted and i'm the first and only one that met him to do so. He was given to me in a cat carrier. I can't imagine him being any smaller than he was then.
An interesting fact is that for about 2 years i had been wanting a dog and then i would talk myself out of it. My ex didn't think that a small dog was "really" a dog and was less than enthusiastic and went so far as to tell me "no"....hahahah nice try. I talked about it on and off and knew that i would meet a dog that would be mine eventually. All of a sudden i had a mad and unrelenting need to find "a dog" and i told my girlfriend that i was ready and serious. I started filling out applications everywhere and was getting really frustrated with the lack of response when you consider how many animals are in kill shelters.
One day Lisa called me and told me to come down and meet him. He was the first, and the only dog i met. The shelter is located in Terriville and has a reputation for being strict in who they adopt out to. Wolcott, where i was living at the time, is where he had been turned in from.......right around the corner from where i was living. I walked by his home several times a week on the reservoir trail. He was two when i adopted him, and he had been living there since the time i had begun to think i needed a dog. We were meant to be. His name was "tiny" which i though was horrid for a small male dog and even though they advised not changing his name i did it anyways. He needed a bigger, fuller, more meaningful name. He became Miyagi due to his little white beard.
And here we are a year later, he and I. It has been less than stable for him yet he has adapted so well. He has become less fragile, more robust. He plays fetch (when he desires) and eats regularly although still only the one food. He goes with me everywhere, even work and grocery stores. I carry him in a modified hippie boho bag (NOT a purse) and he is so quiet and happy to be resting against me that people very rarely notice he is with me. Kids see him, and i love that. I love him so much and can't imagine my life, and especially this past year, without him. My constant and steady love.
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