How did your dog pick you?

[Suki Wingy]

Great stories!

Clark- My mom picked him out from a private GD rescuer and we knew we were getting him, but the day she brought him home was a suprise! We had him for 3 weeks. Here is his story from a school assignment:
In May of 1999 I was preparing to adopt my first dog. Late in May, my mother surprised us with a large male American Pit Bull Terrier, Great Dane cross. He was piebald, with short, jet black fur draped over the traditional back and head. I loved this “Little Man.� Clark, as I called him, was a great dog, however untrained and too large to peacefully coincide with my two-year-old sister, arrangements were made for his original rescuer to take him back. In the beginning of the third week of June, I went off to camp, my parents Lake Geneva, and Clark Carriage Hill Kennels. The last time I saw him, almost six years ago, he was being lead happily through the door, tail wagging, by a kennel aid, unsuspecting, unaware that this would be the last time I was to see him. It was arranged that while I was at camp my mom and dad would drive him back to Indiana to the Great Dane Lover.



Layla- a trip to the Anti Cruelty Society, Chicago, Here is her story from a school assignment:
The very next week we piled the family up in our car and drove downtown to the Anti Cruelty Society. Not one dog caught my eye at first, and I don’t even remember much up until I saw her. Lady, as she was called, was absolutely astonishing. She was huddled in the corner of her dog run; tail flattened and curled up as tight as she could be, shaking. Her fur was a vibrant white, and such contrast there was between the same shining, raven black of Clark’s coat and this pearly essence. I quickly noticed her eyes, unlike anything I had ever seen before; her left eye was a soft brown and her right and icy blue. City kids would pass and exclaim very loudly and very promptly such remarks as, “Hey mom, look at this one, it’s blind!� and discussed mothers would shoot remarks such as, “Look at it, we’re NOT taking that one home!� Which would quickly be followed by quotes such as, “Good, I never wanted a blind dog.� Mumbled by the children who brought attention to her in the first place. I saw her and my heart melted. I stood by her side, afraid to leave her to find my family in fear of someone else looking at her. I would stand there and say flatly, with an are of nervousness to anyone to so much as shoot a glance at her, or try to see who inhabited the run I was guarding, “She’s reserved, were taking her out.� Once I saw my family, I called to them to come at once, and of course, was scolded from afar for yelling. I made quick, little, heart pounding trips to the row in front of Lady. Feeling and looking like a frightened dog who is starving, but stuck on a bungee cord, with food at the very end of it. Always running out and taking a nibble, heart pounding with terror, and allowing it to spring back in before an owner comes out to see what the dog has done. I was so high on adrenalin by then that I could barley tell them the story. Lady came home with us and we had to think of a more suiting name for her. My mother’s old past dog was called Lady, but I didn’t want to change it that much; she had already learned it. I thought of my favorite name, Delylah (yes, you HAD to say it in a southern accent). My mother was against giving dogs long names and disapproved. I was perfectly happy with calling her Dilly, but my mom didn’t like it at all. She said “Lyla�, which I thought was appalling for this beast. Then it hit us, Layla. Layla was the absolute perfect name for the grandest dog of all times. She was the kindest dog you could imagine, loved to sleep next to my head, and constantly needed company. This constant need for company drove her to extreme measures. She tore out of her crate when alone, ripped the window screen open, jumped out, and climbed the fence to find us. She made several daring attempts at finding us while we were gone. She also tore up our floors, her crate, and whatever she could get a hold of through the small air holes in her crate while trying to get out and get to us. She also was very easily startled, and would respond in nipping towards the direction of the starling object or sound before thinking.
Almost five months later, my parents made that awful, life altering experience again. She went back!


Niño- on my stepdad's birthday, on the last day of fourth grade, we made another trip to the ACS downtown and this time we got a behaivourist to help us. I saw the little 6-8 month old guy as I was getting out of the car through the window. I can still go back and show you the runs Niño, Spike, and Layla were in. We took him out and loved him, he was puppyish and stockyer and chubbyer. They were calling him Nino and I thought they were saying Leeno. We put him back and just in case looked around and saw Spike, the 5 year old boxer who was surrendered by a family with children close to our ages because the 12 year old girl wan't taking care of "her" dog. we were in the process of adopting Spike, but we couldn't choose. My mom let me decide and I was crying and picked Niño. We left Spike there because he was pure bred with docked tail and cropped tail and that is what most people want. He had only been there 2 days, the same ammount of time as Layla, and Niño had been there for about three weeks, time was running out! Niño looks a lot different from the time we got him.
the year we got him, 8 months to 1 year or so?

I can NEVER get his ears to do that anymore!

and yesterday


I LOVE MY DOGS!!!!!