Butch came to me on a hot summer day in July. A boy at work told me that they just got a "stupid dog who won't even eat a chicken mcnugget" and did I want it? I said yes, and his father brought Butch to me. When he pulled his car up on that hot day, I looked into the passengers seat, then the back, and I was wondering, "Where is the dog??" He stopped his car, got out, walked around to the TRUNK, and opened it. Inside was my little Butch, so sad, his head down, and I almost sheiked, "give me the dog!" It took about six months before he was comfortable and happy and trusting. But after that he was the best dog EVER! Soon he actually craved attention and petting. He had to learn to walk on a leash, at first he was terrified. In fact, he was scared of everything, but later learned that not all people are cruel and unfeeling. At age eight he died of cancer, on my 40th birthday, and he left a hole in my heart. Now we have Sammy, but I will never forget my Butch.

Sunny L.
Long Beach, CA