I had a family a while ago, but they weren’t very nice to me. They yelled at me a lot; they would hit me with rolled up newspaper; they didn’t feed me enough, or give me enough water. I didn’t get to sleep comfortably.
At least I had a home, even if I had to fend for myself, in most cases. It made me angry and I wouldn’t let anyone near me; I though they’d want to make my life more difficult. Then one day, out of nowhere, they put my leash on me, put me in my cramped crate, and put me in the car. They took me to some building, gave me to some stranger, and I never saw them again.
I didn’t like it there. Sure, the people were all very nice and tried to be kind to me, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that they were going to do something mean to me. I was in a cage by myself. Strangers would come and walk by, peering into my cage. I didn’t like that a lot, so I hid in the corner away from them. They’d make some strange high pitched howling when they saw the puppies. Then they’d leave with the puppies.
One day, a nice person came in and saw me; she said how handsome I was and asked about me. She said, “I’ll take him,” and I went home with her. She lives in a nice apartment and gave me plenty of food and water. She tried to pet me, but I thought she was going to hurt me, so I growled. I’m not making that mistake again.
She’s been on some weird thing she holds to her head and talks into and said she’s going to take me to rescue dog training. Rescue? She rescued me? I thought she was just going to be the next cage to hold me, I didn’t think she cared. The food was nice, but my old family gave me that, sometimes.
She seems sweet; she doesn’t yell me, she doesn’t hit me with newspaper. She gives me toys and my space. Maybe she really does want to help me. I should do my best in this rescue dog training class so she can be happy. Trust takes a while to build, but she seems worth it. I’m glad someone gave me another chance. I have to do my best to repay her.