Chewie is a pound rescued Rottweiler cross. He was severely beaten, dumped, fearful, and labeled "un-adoptable" when we picked him up from the shelter's canine "death row" where he was to be put down the next day. He was just over a year old then, and if you so much as made direct eye contact with him he would cower and pee himself. It took over a year to gain his trust back, and in the process we formed such a bond there was no question he had found his forever home. My "Old Man" as I call him, spent the next 12 years of his life being one of the most loyal and wonderful dogs I have ever had. He was constantly by my side, the sweetest dog ever, but if he thought I was being threatened he was right there in a heartbeat to take care of me. I couldn't have asked for a better companion. Photo at left taken in our backyard at 8 years old, and with a fresh beef bone at 13 years.

Sam was just over a year old when we rescued him from the pound. Our best guess is an English Mastiff x Fila cross. My first glimpse of Sam was while walking down the isle at the dog pound. I was looking for a specific dog, glanced over into his kennel I was walking by, and thought to myself "that has got to be the BIGGEST black lab I have ever seen"!
Richard has always loved Mastiffs, so of course I had to bring him over to see this huge black behemoth ... and it was love at first sight. We didn't take him home that day. While he liked him, Richard was worried about how a new large adult would get along with our current yard full of dogs. Yet that big black dog was all I heard about for the next couple days. A trip back to the pound for another visit, and we let him out to play. ("play" translated to Richard being enthusiastically assaulted by 158lbs of black happy slobbering beast ... while I watched from safely OUTSIDE the fence). In this manner, "Love at first sight" was consummated with a couple gallons of slobber, and Sam came home with us. For my part, Sam and I started out with more of a "Love/Hate" relationship right off the bat... Sam Loved to slobber me, and I Hated him. At least we both clearly understood our part in the relationship.
He was untrained, had no manners, and no respect for people or personal space. He was such a big sweet teddy bear ... all 158 happy playful pounds of him. Happy-go lucky, enthusiastic, teething, virtually destroying everything chewable, and happily slobbering anything that meowed. Things I learned from Sam:
   1) 115 pound humans make GREAT "Squeaky Toys" for 158 pound overgrown mastiff puppies!
   2) A 158 pound mastiff can attain a velocity of approximately 35 MPH while hurtling thru the air towards your chest. (OUCH!)
Even more fun than playing with (bowling over) the other dogs, the best part of Sam's day was whenever "Human Squeaky Toy" (AKA: "Me") dared to venture into the yard to: go to work, feed the horses, get the mail, water the trees, PLAY WITH SAM!
Regardless, all 220+ pounds of big black lovable devoted slobbery dog were here to stay. He learned some manners, and he learned to show respect for people and their space, (Yes - even for "Human Squeaky Toy"!). He began to worm his way into my heart, and he earned himself a place in our lives and out hearts for good, and happily lived out his life with us as part of our family.

Tinga is a boxer rescue that was dumped at a pound at 8 weeks of age because she tried to dig/crawl under a fence and her owners "didn't want a dog with a scrape down her back". She was a skinny, underfed little bit of a thing, but just the sweetest temperament. I jokingly call her my $3,000 Miniature-Boxer, as she matured at about only 40 lbs, and she broke her leg so badly at 8 months old that it took a $3,000+ surgery to repair it. Here to stay, she fit right into our pack and brought a spark of energy and excitement to every day. :)

NAVIGATION