I found Zephyr in the park while walking my other dog, Shadow. (Shadow died two years ago. We miss him very much.) At the time I did not want another dog. I was crashing at a friends, in a small bedroom, with little space. But Zephyr latched onto me–or I to him–and he would not go away, would not be recovered by whatever previous owner lost/left him that day in the park.
He ate EVERYTHING in the house: prescription glasses and sunglasses, CDs, remote controls, down quilts, pillows, clothes, shoes, he ate it all. And yet somehow we got through it, he stayed alive even on days when i wanted to kill him. He came with us, became a part of our clan–Shadow and I. And the three of us found our own small place and now it’s 10 1/2 years later and I can’t imagine not having him with me.
Maybe, on second thought, I should post a photo of me. Maybe it was me he found. Maybe I’m the found. I’ll post us both. love, d.