I have a dog.
So, we decided to rescue a dog that was about to get turned over to the pound.
Marie was helping our neighbor pick up some stuff from a friend's house. [Yeah, I've had the truck a week and *already* someone needs help moving stuff.] Said friend was being evicted due to their landlord letting their house be foreclosed. But he had a dog he couldn't take with him to his new place. He's some sort of retriever mix, around 10 years old, with all his shots [although his rabies booster is coming up] and doggie LoJack.
And docile. Very docile. I have yet to see the dog get the least bit frantic. Which is good. The cats are already unnerved enough having this monster hanging around.
Anyway, neither Marie nor I had the heart to see him go to the pound at 10 years old. I doubt he'd be there longer then the minimum before they put him down. I'm an old softie.