I was born with eight brothers and sisters. One of my sisters didn’t make it. I was the runt, but you can’t tell it now, can you? My mother was fawn colored, with little patience for us and our needle teeth. She tolerated us until she didn’t have to anymore. Her relief was visible. I only knew my father from a distance. He was massive, and kept behind chain link on concrete. His ears were docked, and he was the color of a ten-year old nickel that had been carried in many pockets. I thought he was magnificent. One day, the man who feeds us brought another man and I was picked straightaway. I was happy to be held, and my ears rubbed. Nobody had ever given me singular attention before. He put me in a box on the seat of his pickup, and I promptly jumped out. He let me ride on his lap to my new home. It was so exciting to be somewhere new! All the smells! All the sounds!! All the people!! I was loved for a time, and then the family all left. I was put in a black cage. It was lonesome. I missed my brothers and sisters who were always climbing all over me. There were two other dogs there, but neither were extra friendly. One was downright hateful, and I think the one who was grey like the fog was not hitting on all four…