|I first saw my MOM through the wires of a cage at the SPCA in August of 1998. She had been told of a little dog who was expecting and in need of a foster home. That was ME. MOM said she would talk to her husband and come back for me. She returned as she promised, but I was not ready to go anywhere. I was very frightened by all the new sounds, smells, and people. A nice lady had to cover my head and TEETH to help me safely out of the cage. MOM took me home and nine days later, I presented her with seven puppies. When my babies were six weeks old, they all went to happy homes across the bay. And something wonderful happened to me, too. I learned that I was not going to be a foster dog any longer. My MOM had gone back to the SPCA and formally adopted me. I was so happy that I would finally have lots of stability and lots of food in my life. The only thing that could make my life more perfect would be MOM only calling one name, MINE, when it's time to eat or go "winkie."|
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