Copper asked me if I was a rescue dog. Isabella asked if I came from a kill-shelter. The answer to both those questions is yes.
A little background:
Shortly before I was rescued, mom and dad had their house broken into. Actually mom was the one home- dad was off in North Carolina. She came home from work and the sliding glass door was cracked, the special lock bent. The thieves (school age kids?) got in thru the bedroom window by lifting the window itself out. They made off with the TV and VCR (but left the clickers) and left an expensive computer in the office where the door was closed. Dad left North Carolina and returned home. Mom told him that we had to get a guard dog. Mom had contacted a weimy breeder in Northern New Mexico. They had a male, about a year old. Mom and dad took him on speculation. Dad and the weimy didn't get on well and so the weimy was returned. Mom then suggested that they try the "pound" (the local city animal shelter- two in ABQ, one on east side, one on west side). They went up on a Saturday to look at the dogs available. The went up and down all of the rows, occasionally stopping and checking out a dog more seriously. I was sitting in the back of the cage the first time. By the time dad came thru a second time I had moved to the front of the cage. He knelt down and pressed the back of his hand on the cage and I washed it. Dad then had the shelter people let me out of the pen so they could look me over better. Dad decided that yep- she is the one! I didn't have a name, not even a shelter name.
Each cage had a large 5 x 8 inch card with the dog's information (how he was picked up). Some cards had a red sticker (they are being held for police actions. Some cards had a blue sticker (that's what I had). Mom and dad filled out the paperwork and were told that they could have me late Monday (after my Spay) or Tuesday. Mom said we will pick her up on Monday. Mom then asked what the blue dot on my card meant. The clerk said that if someone hadn't picked me on the Saturday, I would be going with the other blue dotters for the long sleep (Rainbow bridge). I was that close to not making it! Mom and dad picked me up Monday night and I wasn't feeling that great so they took me home. I had water and a little food. Later that night I barfed and pooped in my crate. I was so embarrased. Mom gave me a bath (I didn't like it) and cleaned out my crate. Within a few days I was doing OK and meeting my kitty sibs.
Albuquerque shelters are kill shelters due to the large amounts of animals collected. It used to be you could be there only 7 days. Now it is 10. It is getting better- they have recently instituted a law that says your animal must be registered, must have its appropriate shots and must be microchipped. If you want to leave your dog "intact", it will cost you a $135.00 + $100/litter (Max of 4 litters per year). I suspect those people who bitch about the law are people raising dogs for puppy mills or worse- as bait for fighting dogs. Rooster fighting is still legal here in NM and right along with it is dog fighting (even though it is illegal).
This next bit is about Worf, the orange and white long haired Persion male (fixed). See picture in previous post. He was in our yard for just a few minutes when Mom thought he should come in for the night. She went out all thru the neighborhood but couldn't find him. She expected him to come back in the morning after a hard night of partying. Such was not the case. A couple of weeks later, mom's favorite kitty, George, went out to the yard and he disappeared. His collar was found on the porch. We found out that both cats as well as numerous small dogs in the neighborhood were being stolen and taken to Northern New Mexico as bait for training dogs to fight. George Kitty had heart problems so mom doesn't think he lasted very long. Worf was Klingon tough. He apparently waited for a chance to get free and managed to do the great escape. He was making his way back to Albuquerque. He was befriended by a man in Santa Fe who worked as a volunteer for a wild animal center about 100 miles north of Albuquerque. That wonderful man took Worf to the vet there. Worf was covered with knots so bad he could hardly move. After choping a lot of hair off, they found his Albuquerque tags and called the vets here in town who gave them our telephone number. This call came in 8 months after Worf had been stolen. Mom and dad had given him up for dead. The next day they went and got Worf and brought him home again. He is a little ground growly and he has arthritis in his back end but he is still hanging in there and picking fights with cats who dare cross his territory.
Part of my duties as official guard dog is to guard my three kitty siblings from anyone who tries to take them. I am also tasked with letting no one in the yard unless my mom or dad is with them. I have scared away many fine runners (hehehe).
Now you know the story and know why I am so very greatful to have my family (even kitty sibs) around me.