I was born on this day. Instead of being the black sheep of the family, I guess you could say I was the blonde sheep of the family. I've always been one of a kind.
When I was a puppy, I loved to eat -- I ate so much, it's a wonder I didn't burst. That's why they named me Tank. Besides food, my favorite thing in the whole world was to have a stuffed toy that I could carry around in my mouth while I wagged my tail. Love it!
When I was six weeks old, I said goodbye to my mom, Sadie, and headed for California. I was a birthday present for a boy named Josh. My new home was on 3 acres where chickens and goats roamed free. My family didn't go woof woof anymore; they went bleat, bleat, cluck cluck, and meow, meow. Even the neighbors all around us had animals -- goats, horses, and chickens.
Josh promised to take care of me, train me, and pay for my care. He trained me really well my first year, and I loved him.
I also loved playing with all the animals and small children. I even slept with the baby goats. We weren't just friends; we were family. We got along great, and I thought that would be home forever.
Life happens, and sometimes not the way we like. After a year, Joshua didn't take care of me like he promised, and when school and work took him away most of the time, Mama Debbie felt bad for me that I wasn't getting the attention and training that I needed.
So, with a heavy heart she drove 10 hours to Portland to meet Debby Parscal, the owner of my mom Sadie. Debbie was sure I would be loved, cared for, and protected.
That February 14, 2016, my family went from goats, chickens, kittens, and little humans to three big humans and a dog. Whoa . . .
Life would be different now, but I just knew it would all work out. I would make new friends.