December 7th 2012 11:37 am
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I am a dog. I've lived about four human years and have journeyed half the country with many exciting adventures. My pack, also known as a "family" to people, consists of a mother and her two pups. Well, she calls them "kids" so I suppose that is a more appropriate term. I also suppose I should include the three weasels she added to the pack one at a time shortly after I joined. The mother seems to have a liking for animals. It's not a bad thing or I wouldn't be in the picture telling this story.
And as much as I find myself complaining many times about this pack, I have also found that my life is good. I eat a full meal twice a day and am able to scavenge whatever scraps is available when no one is looking, get daily walks outdoors where I can explore scents of all varieties (I am half bloodhound and must exercise my skills), have a warm den to live in, bones to chew, and the occasional grooming that I enjoy very much. But life wasn't always this good.
I was born in the wonderful state humans call Mississippi. My mother was a skillful Catahoula Leopard Dog and my sire was of the regal line of Bloodhound. The humans weren't too happy with their litter and decided to give all us pups away. As a young pup, I was very excited to join my very own family....
Read more by going to http://seekingdoglover.blogspot.com/
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