This page is to be dedicated to the love of my life, my heart dog, Stoney.  I lost Stoney in November 2012, one week before my birthday, after years of battling epilepsy and kidney failure.  This crazy pupper is the reason I live and breath dogs to this day. He saved my life in every way possible and I will do my best to repay that debt by helping as many fur kids as I can.

It was just the two of us for years. He was with me when I lived far away from my family and when friends were few and very far between. He was my reason to get out of bed when I suffered through major depression. He made sure I got exercise, that I felt loved, that I had a comforting shoulder to cry into, and that I had a reason to smile.

Stoney was a multi-fail shelter dog. Rehomed several times, he was a year old and could be a complete ass. We connected immediately. I can’t explain it. I decided to go to the shelter “just to look,” walked around to every kennel, and dog after dog was jumping and barking, excited about a new person. But Stoney, he walked up to the chain link door, leaned against it, silently looked me in the eyes…and smiled. I didn’t know anything about dogs at the time, but I felt something special.

When I went back inside and spoke to the shelter director, who had not been outside looking at dogs with me, I asked him if there were any dogs he recommended for me. He said, “I think Stoney would be good for you.” “Which one is that?” “He’s the Rottie in the second row.” “Good. He’s the one I wanted anyway.” And that was that. They said I had a three day trial period, no strings attached. I was back the next morning to fill out the paperwork. He made himself right at home at the off-the-grid cabin I rented. We lived on a coastal mountain, in the middle of a vast wilderness and protected forest. My outhouse had a glass front, so he would come creeping on me if I was in there too long. My shower was completely outdoors and he made a game of nipping at my bare butt when I would walk back to the house. This was not my favorite game.

We were inseparable. The mild coastal weather meant that he could go with me almost everywhere, and he did.  He was rough around the edges, played too hard, was impulsive, used his teeth too much (on me), and didn’t like other dogs. Later the shelter would tell me that he was seized from a drug house, where they had kept him on a chain under a trailer. The locals threw food under the house for him and eventually someone called the cops. They believe he was supposed to be a guard dog.  I read every dog book I could get my hands on and depleted our local library in no time. I learned how to train, how to understand dog behavior, and most importantly, how to be patient. When I was calm, he was calm; when I was upset, he was upset. I learned to control my fears and anxieties because he was always watching.

More to come. 🙂