Being dogged is a good thing, at least in the sense I mean it. To me, “dogged” means “having a dog”, and I’ve been dogged for almost all of my almost 74 years.
The first dog was Smoky. He was a black Lab/mystery rescue. I don’t remember much about him, partly because he was only with us a few weeks before running away, partly because I was just a little kid when he was with us. Then we/I had, in order, Lassie, Timmy, Sandy, Arnold, Arthur, Igor, Zelda, Linus, Gonja, Sammy, Casey, Dooley, Nick, Remmy, Missy and Rosie. If you keep reading this blog, you’ll learn about every one of these four-footed blessings. But we’ll start with Lassie.
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