To all you unsung heroes who involve yourselves with the rescue of yard dogs, including the trainers and vet staff, I send a big "thank you" and the following recipient of your efforts sends a big slobbery kiss and a shin-bruising wag of his tail. In case you ever wonder about the "happily ever after" part, here's one story.

Our big, goofy boy had spent many years penned beneath the deck of the house of his affluent owners. Debris consisting of garbage, bits of building material and busted glass were his toys. Barking at his owners when he could hear they were home and having dinner, or watching tv or what ever else it is they did while ignoring him, was his stimulation. That was his life.

Fortunately his jail was within sight of a neighbour who could follow his plight. After befriending him she watched as he began to go downhill. She could no longer coax him to come near as she tossed a cookie, or even raise his head to hear her kind soothing words as he used to. The cruel treatment was taking its toll, he was giving up his will to live. This person knew it was time for him to be rescued and she took action.

We met up with our big guy when my husband and I chanced on seeing him at the trainers where he was just brought to be temporarily homed and evaluated. We were actually just leaving when this 108 pound stinky, dirty thing came over. He pressed his body against my legs; of course I began to pet him and talk to him. My husband came over to see him and he immediately started petting him, too. We couldn't get over how big he was; but as I said we were leaving and so we turned to go. Well this guy went right up to my husband, parked his big butt on the floor and put his two front paws up on my husband's thighs and gave him the saddest look. There was no mistaking that message. Of course he had found his new people.

A couple of days, and a vet check and bath by the rescue group, later we brought him home. He was very shy and subdued. I could just tell he was so concerned about not wanting to make a mistake. As luck would have it we had a six month old pound puppy at home too. She was a third of his size, but a very determined girl. It took her a few days and the use of all of the toys, but she finally got the big guy to play. At first he wouldn't go out to the backyard by himself, one of us had to go with him - I'm sure he thought he was going to be left out there, but after watching his little sister run out for a pee and come back in, he gradually realized it was okay, we'd never lock him out. When we first took them to the beach he had no idea what all that water was and he didn't think he wanted anything to do with it, but he watched his little sister jump in and fetch kongs and sticks and have fun so gradually he wandered in too. At the park other dogs made him nervous at first, but we are always there to make sure nothing went awry, now he views them as friends.

Our big goofy boy and his brat monkey of a sister are the best of buddies and the best of dogs. They play happily together chasing one another around the house, or yard, or park. If one is tired the other persists until the game is on. If one starts wandering off the other is right behind. They actually started working as a team this summer to chase the squirrels out of the backyard. They politely have their dinners, then walk over to the other's bowl to lick it clean. They sleep closely to one another, usually on our bed, usually when we want to go to sleep.

Its been almost two years since our big goofy boy joined this house. He has become a much loved and very loving dog. You can see the confidence in him as he's learned what's expected of him, what he can take for granted and what the routine around here is.

Its not all roses. He snores loudly, farts occasionally and drools copiously while we're trying to have our dinner. He's frequently underfoot and he follows me everywhere, including into the bathroom while I'm taking a shower - he lies curled up on the bathmat and I drip all over the cold tiles toweling off, or he'll steal the towels and run around the house. He still puts his big paws up on people, particularly my husband, his Dad, and particularly when he thinks his Dad is leaving.

Lots of time he just sits by us, smiling, with his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.

So, we couldn't have had this enchantment without that brave neighbour. We truly thank all rescuers for what you do. I know our big goofy guy would say the same thing. Consider this message from him.

Sharon Colbert,
Blossom, Texas