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Mikey

His name is Mikey, because “Mickey will eat anything” Mikey is what I like to call an “All American Breed”

I was living in Florida at the time and on my home from work one afternoon when I saw a pickup truck, about a mile ahead of me, put a box on the side of the road then place a bag inside the box. The truck and driver were gone by the time I appraoched the box, but my curiosity got to me and I pulled over to see what he left behind. Inside I found a puppy, no bigger than my hand with a bag of puppy chow. The poor boy was covered with fleas and whimpering. I looked at this little guy and said to myself, “Well, now your mine.” I took him home and bathed him with the only thing I had available, Dawn dishwater soap, but it killed the fleas and the whimpering changed to a happy, content look on his face. The next day I took him to the vet who estimated him to be about 3 weeks old. It will be 12 years ago next month that we found each other.

Mark, I could probably write a book sharing the experiences I have had with Mikey. He has a personality unlike any dog I have ever had before. One night when Mikey was about 2 years old I was taking him for a walk when someone came jumping out from behind some bushes with his hood covering his face. Mikey was between me and this guy in a heartbeat, bareing his teeth and making the scarest growl I had ever heard, causing my would be assailant to turn and run, all the while Mikey stayed at my side.

My wife doesn’t allow him to be on the couch and would have a hard time getting him to jump off, She would leave the scolding to me. MIkey will put his face within 2 inches of mine and argue back. When he figures he’s not going to win he’ll sneeze in my face and then jump off the sofa.

We live in the western part of the Shenandoah Valley now where Mikey finds the climate more tolerable than the heat of Florida. The colder it is, the more he likes it. We spend everyday walking thru the woods and he has learned qwuickly that he’s not allowed to chase the deer, but rabbit are fair game.

He’s always at my side, or under my feet. My wife will tell you that he’s a mole on my butt. To this day I marvel how blessed I am to have found him. He’s my protector, my companion, my friend.

There is so much more to share about Mikey, but like I said earlier, I could probably write a book. I don’t want to think about the future, he is so much a part of me that I can’t think of my life without him.

Here’s to all the Mikey’s that make our lives more enjoyable.

Joe from Virginia