After about an hour of baiting her with expired beef jerky (that's another story altogether!), I had a scared, dirty, malnourished, adorable, bat- eared dingo in my car.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
The vet assumed Sadie was nine months to a year old, thus her finding day is also her birthday.
In her previous "home", she'd been through more than I ever want to know. Signs of fight training. Beatings. Starvation.
To this day, she is still frightened of people walking with canes or umbrellas. And older women in long skirts. And has a reoccurring limp.
I will never know what the first year of her life was like- though I imagine the worst. And want the person or persons who hurt her to suffer more than anyone ever should.
In the past nine years, she has changed my life. For the better. She makes every single day awesome.
She is smart; easily counting to 6 when treats or toys are involved.
She snores. Loudly. Every single night. Often while pressed against my lower legs.
In fact, she is lying on the floor of my office and snoring as I type this.
She steals my yoga hat on a regular basis. While I'm using it.
She's the only dog I know who doesn't like peanut butter. She'll suck it off of apples or carrots and spit it on the floor, choosing to only consume the fresh fruit or veg.
She begs for bell peppers, seedless cucumbers, romaine lettuce hearts.
She loves to be cold, and roll in the snow. It's delicious!
She bosses around my other dog and cat as if they were her wards. And they let her.
She is technically a Labrador, Boarder Collie, Poodle, miniature Schnauzer mix. And that must have been one hell of a party.
Speaking of which, we're off to Five Guys for her yearly, celebratory bacon cheeseburger. Yeah, I'm that person, and I don't care who knows it.