The New Life of Atticus Cole
I've never made a secret of the fact that I love to rescue animals. The longer I live, the more I see the pure souls of animals, and how unfair it is that their fates lie in the hands of humans who are too often unworthy of them.
My ol' Grandpa Dog, Milo, passed away some months ago. He was with us for a decade, and watched all of my kids grow up. He was glued to my side, and I felt his absence HARD.
I didn't intend of getting another dog yet, but with Covid-19 filling the shelters and wreaking havoc everywhere, I ended up doing that very thing: Getting another rescue dog.
This is Atticus. He was raised with a brother, and his owner allowed them to fight, even clearing out his front room to be a fighting arena. The owner died, and the two dogs ended up in the humane society. The Mastiff Rescue pulled them out... and now Atticus is with me.
On his first day here, he let us know that he can open every door in the the house, including the big heavy glass sliders. The lady from the rescue said he was probably the runt in the litter (a litter of what?? Clydesdales?!?).
We didn't adopt a dog. We adopted a house pony.
This is gonna be fun....
Until next time.