The rescue agency was me. I was walking my Black Lab years ago, and heard a barely audible whimper on the other side of a back yard fence. I thought it was a child who had been injured playing in the yard of an abandoned home. Instead it was my new best friend, Bubba.
He was down to 44 pounds, and had apparently survived on bugs, rodents and rainwater. The doctors at the vet hospital wanted to put him down, saying there was no way he would recover.
I took a week off from work, giving him IV fluids for three days. After four days he could stand, and after a week he could walk. That was about three and a half years ago.
He's back up to 92 pounds, and is inseparable. He's my best friend.
He either sleeps at the foot of my bed every night, or in doorway to the guest room when my granddaughter is in my home.
Like all of us, past injuries and medical history is catching up with him. He's not as spry as he used to be. But still inseparable.
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