See spot.
See spot run.
See spot run for the neighbors dog.
See me run for spot.
See neighbor Kevin's lawyer.
See frowny emoticon--> :(
Note: All dog and human names have been changed to protect their doggy/human identities.
Welcome to my doggy blog...y, which proudly highlights my favorite mistake (where I come from, that's a phrase-of-endearment). Take your shoes off. Stay a while. Socks stay on, weirdo.
That beautiful little monster above, ominously anticipating his next fleshy dessert, is Okemo. He is a wild dog rescued from Afghanistan by an AMAZING New York rescue organization, then cared for by an equally AMAZING doggy day care in New York; which, I boldly adopted, hoping he'd instantly abandon the survivalist mentality after his first night in a TempurPedic bed. I mean, it worked on me.
Okemo--better known as Kemo--is my best friend. My skin is his favorite flavor. Our symbiotic relationship was written in the stars long before we met (sometimes I wish it were in eraseable pen). For better or for worse, the two of us geniuses are teaching each other about life--mostly him teaching me about the fragility thereof.
This blog will consist of the usual goings-on between this dynamic duo. I'll probably drop some product reviews here-or-there, too. I've likely spent more money than most on every training/adoption care strategy imaginable (I may not have food in my fridge, but Kemo has a thundershirt (it's amazing, btw)), so it only seems fair that I share what does and doesn't suck.
Despite my regular use of dense sarcasm, the main aim of this blog is to share my experiences domesticating the most amazing wild animal to ever gnaw on a man's forearm like it were rapidly loosing flavor. I hope to draw from you readers that have faced/overcome a similar experience, and hope to add some faith to those of you contemplating the plunge into rescue adoption. Where a normally-acquired dog wants you, a rescue wants and needs you.
I look forward to keeping you posted on Kemo and I.
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