If I had my druthers, I would take my Rhodesian Ridgeback hound-mix everywhere I go. Lord knows she’d follow. Even as I write this, she’s resting comfortably at my feet, awaiting our next pet-friendly outing, whether it be the neighborhood Tractor Supply, Home Depot, Woodstock Market, or our own backyard.
Out of a hundred or so dogs at Paulding County Animal shelter on a winter Sunday, she stood out from the pack with here regal face wrinkles, and I always like to say that she is likely the best fifty bucks I every spent. She’s paid back every cent of that many times over with her steadfast canine ways, and (I swear) her daily show of gratitude toward my family. (She basically loses her mind with tail-wagging when I say the words “breakfast,” “walk,” “go in the car,” “cookie,” and most of all, “Dad’s home.”